Shattered
by 123me
Summary: He'd shut her out to protect himself... then his worst nightmare had become a reality.
1. Chapter 1

**-Prologue-**

He should have told her. He should have held her and reassured her of how much he still loves her. He should have accepted her apologies, given in to her like he always had before. He should have taken her home with him and forgotten the past. He shouldn't have left her alone, he shouldn't have forced himself to walk away just when he saw the tears begin to show in her eyes. He shouldn't have abandoned her, rejected her. He should have been the husband he knew that deep down he still was. If he had, she wouldn't have been there. She would have been with him. She would have been safe.

Instead, she hadn't been safe, not that either of them had known it at the time. He'd been home a couple of hours when he got the call, and for a brief moment had considered not answering the phone, needing time to himself to deal with all she had said to him, all that he had said to her, but he'd never been one to ignore a phone call. He'd answered, and his world had come crashing down.

The steady bleep had been the only real sound in the room for almost an hour, the last nurse to check on her due to stop by again any time now, and it had been what he had chosen to focus on for those first agonising hours. As long as the rhythm was steady, she was stable, that was how it worked, right? As long as it was steady, she was okay. Except she wasn't. She was lying unresponsive in a hospital bed, recovering from a surgery she likely didn't know she'd even had, battered and bruised with a temporary cast on her leg. She wasn't okay. She was broken, and this time he knew he couldn't fix it. He couldn't fix this by talking to her. By listening to her. It killed him to know that he could have prevented it had he done those things just that morning.

He knew that the guilt he felt for following his head instead of his heart wasn't going to change anything, but blaming himself was all he had. One different decision and they could have been happy in that moment, they could have been settling back into their life together. Instead she was unconscious, and he was desperately waiting for answers from doctors that didn't really know what to tell him – they didn't know if she'd live, or what the lasting effects would be if she did. She was critical.

He kept replaying the day in his mind, her pleas, the panic he felt when he realised what she was asking of him. The rejection that had come from his selfish need to protect himself. If he'd have known that what he had really needed to protect them both from was so close, he'd have held her, and he'd have never let her go. He'd been relieved at first, when the charred images of the diner they had met at had been plastered on his TV screen, the reports of the unexplained explosion making him feel _lucky_ that he had not still been there. Then the call came.

He hadn't known that she had still been there. He had left hours before, it didn't make sense to him that she wouldn't have also left. He'd assumed it was a mistake, that she'd left her purse and they'd misidentified someone who had been near it by her ID. He had held on to that while on the way to the hospital, reassuring himself that it wasn't her, she had left, she was safe, that this near miss could be the wakeup call that jolted him out of his selfish thoughts, that got him following his heart once again. That he'd call her and apologise, that he'd tell her that of course she could come home, she didn't even need to ask. He was so convinced of it that he wasn't prepared when he came face to face with the reality, he hadn't been ready to see her battered, unconscious form when he had finally been able to see her. There was no doubt. It was her.

Everything else had been a blur. He had a vague recollection of being told that they had almost lost her in surgery, that her injuries were extensive, that it was lucky that she had not been closer to the blast, or she'd never have made it to hospital. He'd been told to eat, to go home and sleep, to look after himself, but he couldn't leave her. He'd done that just that morning, stupidly assuming that when he'd given himself time to adjust to what she wanted, they'd have another chance. He couldn't leave her again.

His thumb kept gliding aimlessly over her hand, as if the action could gain a response. It was what he was focusing on. She was there, and he hoped she could feel him, he hoped she knew she wasn't alone. He wanted nothing more than for her to roll her eyes at his hovering, make a sarcastic remark about his earlier rejection, anything to show him she was okay. He wanted to be able to block out the sounds of the hospital and focus on her breathing. He didn't want to hear the bleeping as it changed to a dull, long hum, the terrifying sound of the rushed footsteps, the warning alarms alerting the doctors that their patient needed them. He didn't want to lose her.


	2. Chapter 2

_Four months earlier_

"Sorry I'm late." Jesse greeted her with a kiss, kicking his shoes into the corner. "Last minute meeting. I really hate not being told about these things in advance."

Beca shrugged. "Work is work. I was late too."

He moved to sit next to her, lightly pulling her back against his chest. "I guess we really are back to reality now." He dropped a kiss into her hair. "The married reality is better than the before reality, though."

"Yeah." She moved out of his arms, standing up. "We should eat. What do you want?"

"I want you to relax." He answered, gesturing for her to return to the couch. "It's my turn to get dinner. You finish watching your show, have some wine, then I want to hear about your day..."

"There's not much to tell." Her interruption surprised him. "And you don't have to ask every day."

"Marriage is communication, Bec." He stood up, once again gesturing for her to reclaim her position on the couch. "And I'm interested."

She nodded, sitting. "You've said. You don't always have to be interested, though."

"I can't help that I always am." He watched her for a moment, trying to read her expression. "You okay? You haven't called me 'nerd' since I got back."

"I'm fine. Just watching this show."

"Any good."

"Nothing special."

"What's it about?"

"Disasters. People that should realistically die but don't."

"Definitely a Beca thing." He smiled, kissing her again. "Have I told you how much I love doing that?"

"Not recently, but you constantly give me that impression."

"I'll be sure to tell you more often." He grinned. "Wife."

"You don't need to keep saying it."

"I like saying it."

"Why? It's not going to change if you stop saying it every five minutes."

"I know, but now that I can say it, I don't want to stop." She sighed, and he watched her curiously for a moment. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." She shrugged. "It's just... this whole marriage thing takes some getting used to."

"That's what the engagement was for, Bec." He smiled. "We've got this figured out, I promise."

"What if we don't."

"We do."

"My parents thought they had everything figured out, they didn't."

"Bec, we're not your parents, where is this coming from?"

"I... I don't know." She answered, letting out another sigh. "Just ignore me, I'm being stupid."

"Bec, did something happen?"

"No." She was quick to deny. "Everything's fine. We're fine. You're right, we've got everything figured out."

"No one has everything figured out." He pointed out. "But we'll get there, no matter what, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, sure." Her answer seemed somewhat non-committal, but he wasn't prepared to risk pushing her on it. "So, dinner?"

"Maybe we should get takeout. Give ourselves a chance to relax. I feel like I haven't really seen you all week."

She gave a weak smile. "Sounds good."

"You want anything special?"

"Just the usual." She shrugged. "Don't really feel like anything else."

"Got it." He watched her for a moment. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." She nodded unconvincingly. "Great."

He moved cautiously, deciding not to push her as she turned back to the tv, refocusing on her show, and made his way to the phone, ordering their usual takeout meals before joining her on the couch. "Should be thirty minutes."

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the tv, a look of concern in her eyes as she watched the coverage of a man being dug out after being buried alive on the beach. He reached out, rubbing her back softly, and she turned to him, trying to hide her anxiety. "That's something you would do."

"Bury myself alive?"

"Dig a hole so deep that it collapses in on you, resulting in you being buried alive."

"Nah." He decided. "Couldn't risk it, not now I've got my wife to think of."

"You're such a nerd."

He grinned. "There's my Beca. Welcome back."

She rolled her eyes. "Idiot."

 **-Shattered-**

His day at work had gone well, so well, in fact, that for once he didn't mind that he was so late home that the sun had already set. He hadn't minded that Beca hadn't responded to his messages letting her know what was going on, sometimes when she got engrossed in her music, the world disappeared. It wasn't until he shut the door of their apartment behind him that his smile faded, and he was overcome by an unease that something was wrong. It was quiet. Too quiet.

He took a couple of steps forward, glancing around the darkened living room before hitting the light switch. "Bec?!" There was no answer. "Beca?!" His eyes narrowed in confusion when there was no response, and he immediately made his way to the guest room, which had been set up specifically for her to work on her music. It was in darkness, and he didn't bother turning the lights on, stepping over to the next door and opening it to find that room also empty. He moved back towards the living room, glancing around, finally noticing the missing pictures, the absence of the books that were usually piled on the coffee table, a piece of paper in their place. He moved towards it, suddenly feeling heavy, his approach seeming to take forever, and his heart stopped when he saw what was written on the page.

 _I can't do this. I'm sorry._

He turned on his heel, moving fast back towards their bedroom, slamming the switch with such force that he was surprised he hadn't pushed it through the wall. The closet door was ajar, and he could see from where he was standing that her clothes were gone. Her perfume was no longer on the dresser, her shoes, which would usually litter the floor, were no longer there for him to step on.

He took out his phone, hitting one on his speed dial and resisting the urge to throw his phone across the room as he waited.

"Hey, this is Beca, leave a message and I'll get back to you."

He flinched at the sound of her outgoing message. "Whatever it is, just come home, and I'll fix it. I promise you, there's nothing I won't do, just please come home. I love you."

He ended the call and found himself instinctively dialling another number, desperate to try and regain some control of the situation."

"Hey, Jesse, this is a surprise."

"Where is she, Chloe?"

"What?"

"Beca. Where is she?"

"It's like, 9pm, isn't she with you?"

"I got home from work and she was gone, her things are gone, I don't know where she is, I don't know what's going on, do you honestly expect me to believe that you don't?"

"I have no idea." She hesitated, but before he could continue to question her she spoke again. "Jesse, I honestly have no idea. I'll call her, see if I can find out, okay?"

He agreed, hanging up the phone without warning and immediately dialling another number, groaning in frustration when he was unable to reach Amy, and changed the recipient of his next call.

"Your wife know you're calling other women?"

"Do you know where she is?"

"I know where she should be."

"Where should she be?"

"In bed, satisfied."

He took a breath, knowing that taking his anger out on Stacie wouldn't help the situation. "This is serious, I don't know where she is, Beca's gone."

"Call her."

"She's not answering."

"She's probably just out."

"No." He sighed. "She's gone. Beca's left me."

Stacie was silent for a moment. "She always comes back, just, give her time." She paused briefly. "I'll see if I can get in touch with her, figure out what's going on."

"Thanks." He mumbled, hanging up the phone and moving towards the living room, throwing himself on the couch before attempting to call her again.

"Hey, this is Beca, leave a message and I'll get back to you."

"Please, Bec. Let me fix it. I love you."


	3. Chapter 3

**To save any confusion, for the beginning of this story there are two time lines. Present day, and the events leading up to it, eventually these time lines will merge, when that happens, there will no longer be any italicised heading indicating which time line the chapter is on.**

 _Present Day_

He stood almost instinctively at the sound, glancing anxiously between the machines surrounding his wife, machines that were still indicating that she was stable. He let out a sigh as an unidentifiable group of doctors and nurses rushed past the entrance to the room and down the hall to tend to whatever patient it was that was crashing.

Guilt was barely a concept, not when it came to that situation. Someone down the hall was likely dying, and all he could do was be grateful that it wasn't her, that for now at least, she was still fighting, still there for him to take care of should she let him.

He moved to sit beside her, placing his hand over hers, unable to hold back the sharp intake of breath that came when he was reminded of the numerous tubes surrounding her body. He didn't know if she could feel him, he didn't know if she could even hear him, but he had to believe that she knew he was there, that she knew he would spend the rest of his life making that one morning up to her if she'd just pull through.

"I'm sorry." It was barely a murmur, but he doubted it mattered, he already planned on saying it a thousand times over when she came back to him, because she had to come back to him, he couldn't lose her, not like this.

"Mr Swanson?" The voice cut through his focus, and he turned blearily to the nurse standing in the doorway. "Is there anyone you want us to call?"

"Um..." He hesitated, did he want their friends there crowding them? Would that even be good for her? She never had been one for crowds, but she was usually okay when it was just their friends. He looked back at Beca before answering the question. "Just her parents, they should know." He moved to get his phone out of his pocket. "I have the numbers, I... I don't know what to tell them."

"I can handle that." She gave a weak smile. "What about you? Is there anyone you'd like me to call for you? She needs you to look after yourself."

He paused again, slowly rotating his inactive cell phone in his hand. The explosion had probably been all over the news, his parents had known he was going to be there that morning, they had probably tried contacting him. He wasn't ready, though. He wasn't ready to hear them tell him that he didn't owe her anything, that he didn't need to stay with her. He'd never let it happen, but he wasn't ready for anyone to try and rip him away from her right when she needed him the most. "No, just her parents." He glanced down at his phone again. He'd always been told it needed to be off in the ICU, and he wasn't willing to risk it for anyone. He held the dormant device up slightly. "Is there somewhere that I can..."

She nodded. "The relatives room, but I'm more than happy to make the calls for you."

He sighed, shaking his head. "It'll be better coming from me, I just..." Another hesitation. "I don't want to leave her, I don't want her to think that..."

"She'll be well looked after." The nurse insisted. "I'm going to be just over there," she gestured to the nurses station across from the room. "If anything changes we'll be right on it, and I'll make sure someone lets you know."

He stood, nodding slightly before stepping out of the room and taking a deep breath as he headed down the hall and out of the ICU, following the signs to the nearest relatives room, taking in the relatively busy floor as he made his way down the hallway.

He fell into a chair almost as soon as he had reached the small, yet welcoming room, almost grimacing at the vast contrast it had to what was just on the other side of the door. There was only one other person in there, and their eyes met briefly before he turned to his phone, instinctively moving to the far side of the room to give himself more privacy as he turned on the device.

He dialled her mother's number first, owing to his own experience that whenever he had been hurt, until he met Beca it had been his mother that he always asked for. No answer came, and it felt wrong to give her this news in a voicemail, it was bad enough over the phone, so he asked her to text him when she got the message, and promised to call back as soon as he could.

Her dad was easier to get in touch with, he picked up almost as soon as the number had been dialled, greeting him warmly. "Jesse, I wasn't expecting to hear from you. Beca said you agreed to meet her, how did that go?"

"Um..." He choked, his mouth hung open mid-response.

"Jesse?"

"There was an accident, and she's... she's hurt." Jesse stuttered. "You should come. She's in the ICU."

"What kind of an accident?" He queried. "Is Beca okay?"

"They put her into a coma, they..." He cut off, not really knowing how to explain. "I just really think you should get here." He heard movement from the other end of the line, the frantic tapping of keys on a computer, and knew that the message had been delivered. "I need to get back to her. She's alone, and..."

"I'll be there as soon as I can, just text me the hospital details. She'll be okay, she's a fighter, we both know that." It was in his nature to always try and be reassuring. "Go to her. I'll see you soon."

The line went dead, and Jesse knew his father-in-law had hung up, and he quickly texted the requested details. He turned around, intent on leaving, only to see the room's only other occupant still focused on him, her eyes tear stained.

"Who are you here for?"

He was somewhat surprised by her words, having not expected conversation from anyone other than his in-laws and the hospital staff. "My wife."

"Was she caught in the explosion too?"

He nodded, glancing towards the door, still anxious to get back to Beca's bedside. "She's hanging on."

"I hope she makes it." The woman let out a sob. "My husband, he... they made me leave when the alarms started going off."

Jesse gulped. The crashing patient earlier, the one he had been relieved was not Beca. "I'm sure they'll do everything they can."

"He was right next to the blast." There was a distinct strain in her voice. "They haven't said it, but I know it doesn't look good. He was probably too far gone before they got him here."

"They would have told you."

"I wouldn't count on that." A stray tear fell down her cheek. "I know the drill. My brother was in a car accident when I was a kid, they lie, they keep your hopes up, even when they know there isn't any hope."

Jesse felt his anxiety build at even the possibility he had been lied to, and quickly excused himself, rushing back to the ICU so fast that he almost forgot to sanitize his hands, and was disciplined by a nurse near the entrance for doing so. He moved straight towards the nurses station just opposite the private room his wife was occupying, coming face to face with the nurse that had urged him to reach out to others.

"Is she dying?"

She looked momentarily startled when he spoke, but almost immediately calmed. "She's critical, Mr Swanson, but she's doing well, and her doctor is hopeful."

"But she could die? I could lose her?"

"We have every reason to believe that she will continue to fight." She sighed. "I know it's difficult, but you have to hope for the best. She made it through the surgery, and she's being closely monitored."

"But the guy down the hall, he's dying, right?"

"I can't comment on other patients, Mr Swanson. Your wife is in for a tough fight, you need to focus all of your energy on her and on taking care of yourself right now."

He frowned. "When will she wake up?"

"She's in a medically induced coma. Her body needs time to heal. I'm sure when the doctor comes round later he'll be able to answer all of your questions."

"Get him here now. I need to know what's going on with my wife."

"He's in surgery." The nurse remained calm. "I can page one of his colleagues, but they won't be as informed about the case."

He took a step back as he noticed a number of medical staff exiting the room next to Beca's, watching them intently as they all went in different directions. One, he noted, was heading in the direction of the relatives room he had left just moments before, and he found himself moving quickly back to his wife's side.

"Bec," He started. "Please come back to me. I was angry and hurt, I said some stuff. I didn't mean any of it." He watched for any sign of a response. "Bec, please."

 **-Shattered-**

"Hey."

He heard the voice before he saw it's source, glancing first to his wife when he opened his eyes, assuring himself that nothing had changed in the time he had been asleep. He turned, taking in the sight of his father-in-law before standing up. "I..."

"She's going to be okay."

Jesse's gaze moved to the clock on the wall before shooting back to the other man. "The doctor was meant to come by, I was meant to ask things, I..."

"Jesse." He was met with an unwavering stare. "The doctor did come, I spoke to him."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because I knew you likely hadn't been sleeping." He gave a soft smile. "He said the early indications are good. They're going to take her for a CT in the morning."

Jesse sighed. "I can't sleep. She needs me..."

"She needs you to look after yourself." There was a brief hesitation. "Which is why I called your parents. You need someone focused on you."

"You..." Jesse let out a frustrated groan. "You shouldn't have done that. I don't want to hear what I know they're going to say."

"What do you think they're going to say?"

"They're going to tell me to leave her, that I don't owe her anything and that I have no obligation to be here." Jesse began, not realising just how much he needed this rant. "They're going to tell me that she doesn't deserve to have me worried about her like this, that she didn't worry about me..."

"Jesse." The interruption was sharp. "You know that's not true. The whole time she was away from you she was a mess. She ran away because that's what she does when she gets overwhelmed, and it likely didn't help that her job gave her the opportunity, but she called me almost every night in tears because she was worried you'd blame yourself, and because she missed you but she didn't know how to go home."

"I missed her so much." He whispered, his voice breaking. "She'd been gone for so long that when she finally came back I was scared. I rejected her. Just like she does when she gets scared, only she has a good reason for it."

"You did too." A pause, and Jesse took the moment to let his own surprise sink in – her father didn't seem angry that he had rejected her, that he had caused this. "You have every reason not to trust her, and she understands that. When she told me she was going to go home to you, she told me she wasn't expecting it to be easy. It was a real moment of growth for her."

"When Stacie called..." Jesse began. "When she told me that Beca was back in town, she told me she was staying with her, that she was trying to figure out how to talk to me, but I was so angry, I... Why didn't I just go and get her? Why didn't I take her home?"

"The same reason you ignored her calls and her messages for three weeks before you agreed to meet with her. You were hurt, and you were angry. She knows that it's her turn to fight."

Jesse looked to his wife, taking in the steady rise and fall of her chest. "Not like this."

"If you had known that this would happen, would you have made a different choice yesterday? Would you still have rejected her and walked away?"

"No." He didn't even need to think about it. "I don't want to lose her, I... I never really did."

"I know that. And she definitely knows that. You need to forgive yourself for being hurt, because no matter how difficult things are, in the circumstances as they were yesterday, she needed that rejection. She needed you to make her fight."

"I just wanted to hold her." He finally let himself break down. "But I was so angry that I didn't, and now..."

"And now you're just going to have to hold her when she wakes up. And she will. We both have to believe that she'll come back to us."

"She always comes back, just give her time."

"Exactly."

"No." Jesse sighed. "That's what Stacie said. And Amy. When they found out she was gone. She always comes back, just give her time."

"They weren't wrong."

"I just don't get why she went to Stacie when she came back. Why didn't she come to me?"

"She didn't want you to feel obligated to let her come home. She wanted you to want her there."

"I've always wanted her there. Since I met her, I can't remember ever not wanting her to be right next to me. When she's not with me it just feels... it feels wrong, and when she left, it just, it hurts that she doesn't feel the same."

"I'm sure she does." Her father put in, glancing towards his daughter before re-focusing on his son-in-law. "She chose to leave that day, but I've never known her to be that miserable before, that withdrawn. But feeling that way, it scares her. Scares her so much that she runs from it."

"It scares me too."

"I taught her how to run, so that's what she does. She doesn't know anything else. She needs you to help her stop. She needs to know it scares you too."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the wait. Inspiration issues for this chapter. Chapter 7 is coming along great though.**

* * *

 _Two months earlier_

In the eight weeks since he had last seen her, Jesse felt his entire world had collapsed. He knew that wasn't strictly true, if anything his boss had applauded his new found dedication to work, had been surprised that a newlywed would be devoted to anything outside of the home. He hadn't told anyone. He couldn't. How did he explain to his colleagues that she'd ran? That he hadn't been enough for her to stay.

He'd stopped calling her. It seemed pointless after weeks of unanswered calls. Her dad had told him not to worry, that she had contacted him, that she was safe, but that didn't settle his fears. Sure, she may be safe, but Jesse knew she wasn't okay. How could she be when she had just taken off like this?

He'd called her office a lot that first week, expecting that she would still be going to work and that eventually he would be able to talk to her, instead they had surprised him, after days of making excuses, they told him the truth – she'd taken an assignment out of town. He'd yelled when they'd refused to tell him where, but it hadn't achieved anything. She was still out of reach.

His friends had been around a lot recently. He wondered if they felt he needed babysitting. None of them had really helped. If anything, their clashing views on his situation frustrated him. He couldn't follow the advice to fight for her if she wasn't there to be fought for, if she wasn't willing to fight for them herself, but he wasn't ready to start dating. Somehow he knew that it wasn't that eight weeks wasn't long enough, it was that it was Beca. Eight decades wouldn't be long enough.

Still, he played along, willing to get them off his back even if just for a little while, and he'd agreed to one of the dates they had insisted on. He'd spent the whole evening talking about her, staring down at his plate while some poor woman he didn't even remember the name of politely listened to him talk about the wife that had left him. She'd been understanding, and for that he was grateful, but if he was honest, he hadn't appreciated the advice she had given him – find your wife. Didn't she think he'd tried that?

On the weekends he drank. Drank enough to make himself forget, enough to numb the pain. He'd never been a big drinker before, but when his mind wasn't occupied with work it always came back to her. It had been his only option. The hangovers were bearable in comparison.

His parents had stopped by unannounced. He'd probably lashed out at them more than he should have. He knew it wasn't their fault, if it was anyone's fault it was his. She had to have left for a reason. He should have known. He'd forced them to leave after a week, he couldn't take his mother's fussing, her comments about his wife. His father's positivity was just as frustrating. Jesse knew he would never willingly give up on the idea of her coming back, but his father's unwavering belief, especially with every passing day, had just began to hurt. Beca didn't have that much faith in them.

He'd called Stacie a lot over the weeks since Beca had left. He didn't have the patience for Amy's flamboyance, even if he did know that she would be the one Beca called if she did make contact with her friends. Stacie would find out, and she'd repeatedly reassured him that she'd let him know should she hear anything. That didn't stop him calling though. He got on with Beca's friends, but they weren't exactly his friends. He didn't trust them to tell him as much as he should.

He ached. Ached in all ways possible. He was yearning for her, and his concern, his anxiety, and the anger that he didn't feel entitled to were leaving him exhausted. Physically drained. He knew things couldn't go on like this, for him as much as for her.

He wondered if she missed him as much as he missed her. If she regretted leaving. If she spent her days staring at her phone waiting for him to call, even if she didn't plan on answering. He wondered if she felt the same emptiness he did when she wasn't within reach.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know. He hated the idea of her hurting. The pain was unbearable, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel the same, but that was also all he wanted. He wanted to know that she felt incomplete without him, just as he felt incomplete without her. He wanted her to be okay, he always had, but if he was scared that if he accepted that she was fine without him, he may also have to accept that their marriage was over.

 **-Shattered-**

It was Donald that had given him the light slap to the back of the head as he walked along the street, clueless to what his friends had been talking about. "You've got to snap out of it, dude."

"She's my wife."

The statement meant everything to him. It covered everything he needed to say, but he knew it wouldn't be enough for his friends.

"She's gone. You need to move on, she probably has."

He wanted to punch him, wanted nothing more than to lash out, but he didn't have the energy. "Don't talk about her like that."

"It's been over two months. If she was going to come back, she would have."

"You don't know that." If anything was worth being stubborn about, this was it. "You don't know her. You don't know what it's like to be loved by her. You don't know how rare it is for her to feel safe. You don't know anything."

"I know that she's gone." Donald's stare was piercing. "And if she felt safe with you she wouldn't be."

Jesse gripped his phone in his pocket, clenching his free fist in an attempt to avoid a physical confrontation. "She doesn't feel safe now."

"How do you know that?" It was Benji that had interrupted, sensing the animosity that was building. "Have you talked to her?"

Jesse shook his head, briefly closing his eyes as if the action could shut out reality. "She called her dad."

"Did he tell you where she is?"

"She wouldn't tell him." He sighed. "He said it wasn't a long conversation. She told him she was okay and she'd see him soon, and that she was scared." He almost flinched as he finished the last words. "She's scared and I'm not there."

"She chose that." Donald put in, and Jesse didn't miss the look that Benji threw at him in response. "Just saying."

"Maybe it's something she needs to get over on her own? Maybe her leaving had nothing to do with you or your relationship?"

He shook his head. "She would have told me."

"Are you sure her friends don't know anything?"

"Not that they're telling me."

"I'll do some digging." Bumper offered. "Amy wouldn't say if she called, but I can find out."

"And risk your own relationship?"

Bumper shrugged. "I like digging."

"I don't even know if that's too much information or not..."

 **-Shattered-**

Twelve weeks. Twelve weeks, six days and seventeen hours since he'd last seen her. It didn't get easier. He hadn't expected it to. He'd started calling her again, not as much as he had done during those first weeks, but knowing she had been in contact with her dad had reignited his hope that maybe he would be next. He was conflicted. He'd never known how it felt before to be so in love with someone, but to be so angry with them at the same time. Even their falling out in college had never felt this way.

She'd showed up at her dad's the day before. Somehow the older man had managed to text him without her realising. At least not initially. She'd figured it out, he'd been told, and had been quick to leave. He couldn't help but take it personally – the idea of him knowing where she was had her running again. It seemed like every day he'd learn something new that felt like a dagger in the heart. He'd do anything to see her, but she seemed to be doing everything she could to avoid seeing him.

He spent way too much time pondering what had gone wrong. He knew it was pointless, in truth, he didn't really have much of an idea. She'd told her dad she missed him, but what was he supposed to do with that? What good was that to him? He didn't even have the option to tell her that he missed her too, that the weeks apart had been the worst of his life. He didn't have the option to tell her that she didn't have to miss him, that they could figure it out, that they could both be happy again.

He didn't know whether to take comfort in his phone showing him that she was reading his messages. Knowing that she had that contact did help him a little, but she never responded, not even to let him know she was okay. It was two words, and she couldn't even give him that. He knew his texts were getting less pleasant as the days progressed, and he knew that wouldn't help him, it wouldn't make her come home, but he wanted to give her some idea of how he was feeling, and that was the only way he had.

He wanted to hate her. Wanted to despise her with every fibre of his being for causing their world to crash down around them. He could never do that, though, she was Beca, and he'd always love her. He loved her more than he had even known was imaginable. If he didn't, he assumed, it wouldn't hurt so much. The pain was proof that it was real, that they were real, and in some twisted way it was what kept him going – maybe she felt the same, and if she did, maybe she'd come back.

He still waited. Hoping that someday she'd walk back through the door as if she had never walked out of it, but he knew that there was no chance of that happening. Leaving was far easier than coming back, especially considering the circumstances. Even if she wanted to come back she wouldn't, she'd be terrified of rejection. She always had been. He just had to hope that she'd change her mind, that eventually she'd let him know where she was, she'd let him go to her. Waiting killed him, but he knew that she had to make the first move, however small that move may be.

Jesse's mind had been working overtime pretty much since he had found out she had gone, especially on those dark, lonely nights where he was sitting alone in their apartment, looking longingly over the wedding album. He knew he had to get out, sitting inside like this every night wasn't doing him any good.

The street was dark when he stepped out, and the bitter air was a welcome shock as the wind hit his face. He was going to spend one night not thinking about her, just one, that was all he needed. The one thing he didn't know was how he was going to achieve this. He knew drinking didn't work, he'd been trying that one for months now. He'd never consider drugs or meaningless sex, Beca meant way too much to him for that, no matter how much she was hurting him. He'd never take a risk like that, and he'd never be disloyal to her.

His mind drifted to gambling. Beca would hate it, and a part of him thought that maybe that's why he wouldn't. He'd always wanted to try, but hadn't, it would be almost like a form of punishment. The only thing he could do while she wasn't there. His friends weren't up for it though, and he didn't really feel like going alone. He couldn't distract himself with a movie, either, somehow he had come to associate every single one with her, whether she'd seen it or not. It was just something they did together.

Karaoke meant singing, clubbing meant music, and the only music he was interested in hearing was hers. From her stereo, or the sound of her voice, he didn't care. It was just something else that was her. Everything was her. Everything except home.

So he headed to a nearby store, finding himself face to face with an obscenely large collection of paint colours. If she wanted to erase herself from their home, he'd finish the job. He just needed to make a choice on colour. Something bright. Something she'd hate.

The shrill sound of his cell interrupted his flawed selection process, and he pulled the object out of his pocket while cursing his indecisiveness, barely checking the name on the screen before answering the call.

"Stacie?"

"Jesse, I promised her I wouldn't call you, but she's a mess, and you have a right to know. Beca's back in town. She's staying at mine."

And then suddenly the paint didn't matter. He had a real decision to make.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm the worst updater ever, but I'm getting there, I promise.**

* * *

 _Present day_

The hum of the monitors had become the most constant part of his day. The constant flow of medical personnel coming in and out the room the most company he had. He'd called their friends while her dad was with her, but hadn't left her side since. If they showed up at the hospital he was sure he'd be told somehow, and as selfish as it was, he wanted Beca to himself. She looked so fragile, so broken, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss away her pain. Even if he had felt that she would be happy for him to do that, her battered body was connected to so many machines that there was no way he could.

"I didn't mean it, you know." He told her once more. "Everything I said to you, I was just angry, I was hurting. I didn't mean to shut you out. I get it now, it's easier to do that when you're scared, but I promise that when you come back to me, I will never do that again."

He moved a hand to her forehead, brushing his thumb over her hairline, almost willing her unconscious form to respond to him. He knew she couldn't, but he'd never stop hoping.

"Of course you can come home." He continued. "I never wanted you to leave in the first place. I should never have taken my fear out on you. I should never have left you there, I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

He jumped at the sound of the voice, closing his eyes tightly. "Yes it was."

"How was it?"

Jesse stood, turning to face the room's new occupant. "I didn't realise something was wrong. I left her there when she needed me."

Stacie sighed. "She knew it wasn't going to be easy, coming back. That's why she came to me when the only thing she really wanted was to go to you. She wasn't expecting to meet you that day and be able to pick up where you left off. She knew it would take time."

"I'm taking her home when she's allowed out of here."

The brunette bit her lip, her eyes focused on her unconscious friend. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Things aren't great between you and..."

"She's my wife." Jesse insisted. "I'm taking her home as soon as I can."

She nodded. "Beca's strong, you know, she'll be fine."

"She has to be fine. I can't live without her."

"I don't think this was what she had in mind, you know." Stacie couldn't help but laugh. "She knew it would take a lot to get you to let her back in, but I doubt this was what she was going for."

"How do I not be angry with myself?" He questioned, asking himself more than anything. "I rejected her. I left her there. She was there because of me. She must have been so scared."

"She was upset." Stacie responded, taking in his curious expression. "She called me after you left. She was upset, and she said that she needed some time on her own to think. She thought it was funny, you know, that you spent so long trying to get through to her and now she had to do the same."

"I should have just taken her home. It was what we both wanted, I just..."

"You just needed to protect yourself. She gets it, Jesse, she does. That's been her her whole life."

"I wasn't there..."

"You're here now, and that counts for a lot." The brunette smiled. "Look, your parents have showed up, they're in the relatives room. Why don't you take a break. I'll stay with her."

"I want to be here with her."

"Jesse, it's fifteen minutes. She wouldn't hold it against you."

"But..."

"Go."

He sighed nodding, moving towards the door. "You'll come and get me if..."

She nodded. "Of course."

He moved slowly down the hallway, stumbling into the relatives room and throwing himself into a chair before looking up at his parents, their sympathetic gazes frustrating him. They'd been here once before, he hadn't gone out to see them, and made it known that he'd prefer they didn't come to him. The idea of them being that close to Beca right now had him on edge.

"Jesse, go home." He almost rolled his eyes at his mother's words, dropping his head into his hands. "You need to rest."

"You're no good to her like this, son." His dad put in. "Get some rest, come back refreshed."

"He has no reason to come back at all. She left him..."

"She came back." He knew the interruption was rude, but he didn't really care. "She came home. I let her down before, I won't do that again."

"She let you down." He'd expected the insistence. "Your obligation to her ended when she walked out on you."

"I don't have an obligation to her, mom." Jesse looked back up at her. "She's my wife. I love her. She's my family. That's not obligation. I don't have to be here for her, I want to."

"So she can do whatever she wants?" The older woman scoffed. "No matter how many times she hurts you, or in how many ways she does it, you're going to keep letting her back in?"

"She was scared. She got overwhelmed and she ran away, but she came back, mom. She came back to me."

"She came back to Stacie, if my mind serves me correctly."

"She came back." He repeated. "She went to Stacie because she didn't want to pressure me, which is more than I can say for you, right now."

"Jesse..."

"You know, she was back in surgery yesterday." He cut in again. "Her arm wasn't healing properly. Not that you actually care."

"We do care, Jess." His father had decided to try calming the situation. "But we also saw how much she hurt you. Of course we want her to get through this, but we don't want you to get hurt again."

"Nothing hurts as much as this." He stood, deciding to go and see what they had in the vending machines. Anything to get him out of this situation. "Nothing hurts as much as not knowing when she'll wake up, if she even will wake up."

 **-Shattered-**

He'd stepped back into her room an hour later, having eaten and consumed more caffeine than was healthy, but stopped short when he heard Stacie talking. She was telling Beca all of the latest celebrity gossip, and he couldn't help but laugh. Beca would hate it.

Stacie turned to him upon hearing his chuckle. "I figured she'd wake up just to tell me to shut up, if anything."

He moved forward, standing on the opposite side of the bed and placing his hand on top of his wife's. "It wouldn't make a difference, but sometimes I think I should ask Amy to come down and talk about her wedding plans."

"Annoying her into consciousness." Stacie laughed. "Amy would be all for it. Although she'd probably wake up and kill us."

"I wish she would." He let out a sigh, moving his hand to her forehead. "I need her to get through this."

"She will." Stacie assured him. "She told me she had no intention of leaving you again. You don't think getting blown up would stop her, do you?"

"She didn't get blown up." He knew she hadn't meant to aggravate him, and that his reaction was likely down to his parents butting in, but he couldn't help but correct her. "She was just close to an explosion."

"Jesse." He could almost hear Stacie's frown, but he didn't look up. "She's going to be fine."

He gave a weak smile. "I know. I just wish they'd tell me more, you know?" He paused. "The doctors keep saying they need to keep her in the coma, but I don't really get why, I..."

"You could do with Ashley being here?" Stacie suggested, and they both knew she wasn't completely joking. "What with her being at Med school. She could understand what they're saying."

"She called when she heard. I called her back." He admitted. "I copied some stuff off of the chart and asked her about some of it, but I can't keep doing that."

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you did. Ashley loves Beca." Stacie encouraged. "We all do."

"When was the last time they even saw each other?"

"I don't know about saw." Stacie shrugged. "But they talked last week. Beca was determined to reconnect with everyone."

"I was the last person she called?"

"No." Stacie's answer was instant. "You were the first. After she left you that first message, it took her a while to be ready to try and reach out to someone else."

Jesse nodded. "Did she say why she came to you?" He hesitated. "No offence or anything, I just always assumed she'd go to Amy or Chloe first."

"Amy's supportive but she's loud, and Beca was worried she wouldn't get it." Stacie explained. "Chloe... well, she's Chloe, you know, she's dramatic, and she'd probably end up complaining about how it affected her instead of listening." A pause. "She wanted to come to you, you know, but she was too scared."

"It's sad."

"What?"

"She's meant to have all these friends, we were all meant to have helped her overcome her insecurities, but when it comes down to it there's only two of us that she trusts to listen to her? That's sad." He ran his thumb over Beca's immobile hand. "She deserves more than just us. Maybe if she had more than just us she'd never have ran."

"It's not that bad." The brunette shrugged. "I'm sure she could talk to some of the others if she needed to, it's probably just easier for her to talk to us."

"I just hate the idea of her being alone." He sighed, dropping into the chair next to him, his hand not leaving his wife's. "I hate that she could ever feel like she has no one. That she could ever feel that she couldn't come to me."

Stacie nodded, turning back to her friend. "Come on, Beca. Time to wake up."

"She can't."

"Of course she can."

"No, I mean, I want her to, but the doctors say she can't." He explained. "When I said the doctors wanted to keep her in the coma, I mean that's what they're doing. She can't wake up on her own."

Stacie nodded. "Any idea when they're going to try and wake her up?"

"They said they'd let me know." He let out a sigh. "I just wish it wasn't taking so long."

 **-Shattered-**

He hated being alone with his thoughts. He hated having Beca right next to him and still being alone with his thoughts even more. Stacie had left not long before Beca had been taken for her most recent scan, and as much as he had been telling himself, and everyone else, that he preferred it just being the two of them, he had to admit that it had been nice having someone there that would respond to him, someone who was just as in the dark as he was. He could see why Beca had gone to her, she was easy to talk to, something that he had never expected considering the little he knew about her.

"You know what." He decided, his hand gently holding onto his wife's. "Lets make a deal. If you get through this, I'll make more of an effort with your friends."

It was the sort of thing he would say that would usually result in an eye roll or a shake of the head, sometimes even a scoff, and it broke his heart all over again to see her so unresponsive. He knew he had to talk to her, though. There was no real proof that she could hear him, but there was no evidence that she couldn't, either, and he needed her to hear him, he needed her to know she was loved, that she had something worth fighting for.

"It's a big deal, you know." He continued. "All of that drama, but I'll do it for you because I love you. I mean that, I love you. More than anything."

He stood almost instantly when he heard her doctor's voice in the hall, and looked out the door to see him standing by the nurse's station, studying something. It was a couple of moments before he he commented on whatever he was looking at to the nurse that Jesse had come to rely on over the past couple of days and turned to look across the hall.

Jesse stood as he approached, watching as he checked Beca's vital signs and looked over her chart. It was another couple of minutes before he spoke up.

"I have some good news for you. Your wife's latest scan results are clear. I've discussed it with some of my colleagues, we're all in agreement. We're going to try and wake her up tomorrow."


	6. Chapter 6

_Four days earlier_

He stared at the device in his hand, his eyes focused on the words that he was yet to clear from the screen. One missed call. It wasn't the first one. It had been three long weeks of 'missed' calls, of unanswered texts. Three weeks of pretending that he was fine with her being just across town, within reach but at the same time impossible to see. Three weeks of her voice on the answer machine, on his voicemail, pleading for him to just talk to her.

He regretted it. He regretted not going to her the second Stacie had told him that she was back, he knew that's what her friend had thought he would do, but once the panic was over, once he knew where she was, knew that she was safe, the anger had set in. His fury had been keeping him from her. He'd tried justifying it by telling himself that the distance was so he wouldn't say something that would hurt her, something that he'd regret, but he knew that for a part of him, at least, it was about punishing her. He hated feeling that way.

His resolve was wearing thin, he was yearning for her, hearing her voice in those messages, so defeated, just made the hold that yearning had over him stronger. He couldn't recall ever being so angry at her before, but he also couldn't let go of his desperation to fix things for her. To make everything better.

The messages had started short. The first being a simple _"I'm sorry."_ that had completely thrown him. He should have known it was coming, he should of known that the sound of her voice would still have the power to make his heart skip a beat, but somehow it had completely shocked him, the anguish she managed to convey in just two words had almost sent him running to her side to promise her that everything would be okay. Almost.

He cleared the missed call, throwing his cell onto the couch as he stood up. One of these days he was sure she was going to show up at the apartment door, and he knew that if that happened, he'd never be able to deny her entry, he'd never stopped seeing it as her home too, and that wasn't who he was.

Moving over to the window, he sat on the ledge, watching the street below, scanning the faces of strangers for her familiar one. It wasn't the first time he'd done it, she'd never showed, no matter how many times he had thought he had seen her. She was scared.

He was terrified.

There was nothing he wanted more than to have her back with him, to pretend the last few months had never happened and to fall into their old routine, but if that happened, if he allowed that to happen, what was to stop her doing the same thing in a couple of months, or even years, time? What was to stop her from freaking out and running off again? He loved her, and if the past three weeks were anything to go by, he was pretty sure she loved him. He just didn't trust her to stay, and that killed him inside.

The landline began to ring, but he made no immediate move to answer. He knew it was her, she was being persistent. He still wasn't really sure how to talk to her.

" _Jess, please talk to me. I'm sorry, I love you... I don't want to do this over the phone..."_

His eyes fell to their wedding photo as she spoke, and he felt himself lunging for the phone before his mind got the chance to register what his body was doing. He'd already answered, put the receiver to his ear, by the time he realised what he had just done.

"Jesse?" She'd heard him answer. She must have. "Jess, please, are you there?"

He stayed silent.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I just..."

"Just what?"

He just made out her faint gasp. "I panicked I..." She hesitated. "Can we do this in person? I really don't want to do this over the phone."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Jess, please." She paused, letting out a breath, he could tell she was trying to stop herself from crying. He could always tell. "I need to see you."

"Where were you when I needed to see you?" He shot back. "I didn't even know if you were alive."

"I'm sorry." She repeated. "I didn't plan it, I just... I got overwhelmed." She let out another breath. "I know I should have come to you, but..."

"You didn't."

She was silent for a moment, and a big part of him was urging him to end the call. He didn't.

"I have some issues that I need to address." She decided. "I acknowledge that. It was wrong to run, I messed up, I know that, and I will work on that, but you promised, Jess, you promised me..." He was about to interrupt, about to tell her that promises meant nothing when she had made her own and not stuck to them, but held back at the sound of her sob. "You promised me that I would always have you, and now I'm scared that I don't any more. I'm scared, Jess, I'm scared that I messed up too much this time."

He inwardly groaned, feeling an unease in the pit of his stomach as he listened to her, already knowing what the outcome of this conversation was going to be. He'd go and see her, she'd win. She always did when it came to him.

"Jesse?" Her voice was somewhat quieter. "Tell me you don't love me."

"What?"

"Tell me you don't love me and I'll go away, I'll leave you alone, you won't have to deal with me again."

"I can't." He found himself almost choking at her words. Every word she said was leaving him desperate to reach out to her, to comfort her, to reassure her, instead, all he could do was choose not to lie to her. "I can't do that."

"I love you." She sounded almost defeated, but there was a newfound hope in her tone. "I really love you."

He groaned again, this time not trying to muffle the sound of it before he responded. "I'll meet you at the diner in an hour."

 **-Shattered-**

She was already there when he walked in, her eyes trained on the mug that was in her hands. She was biting her lip, a sure sign of her nervousness. He hung back, watching her. It had been four months since he had last seen her, her hair was longer, but that was the only real difference that he could make out. She was still the same, she was still Beca. She was still the person that had the power to hurt him more than he knew was possible. She was still the person that had done just that, and as much as his heart soared at the sight of her, he knew that forgiving her wouldn't be easy, and that it wouldn't be instant.

It seemed insane to him that the diner had changed more than she had. The additions to the menu, rearranged furniture, an upholstery colour change, a distinct smell in the air that didn't quite match the greasy burgers and rich coffee he was used to. He'd only ever come here with her. A lot had changed since they had last been.

She had glanced up, nervously looking out the window before her eyes returned to the mug. She hadn't seen him yet, and a part of him wished that she wouldn't, wished that he could just watch her, that he could be around her without all of the intensity, without the pain and the anger. He wished they could go back to how things were before.

His eyes darted to the other side of the table, to the second mug sitting across from her, and he knew she had already ordered his own drink. As much as he knew there was no way she would have forgotten, he was a little touched that she had remembered what his go to drink was at this particular diner.

She looked up, and their eyes met. He almost froze when she stood up, giving him a weak smile as he built up the courage to step forward. He had to admit that he was nervous too, he didn't even know how he was meant to greet her considering everything that had been going on. Usually he'd kiss her, but that didn't fit with how their relationship was right now. Even a hug didn't seem right.

He approached, sliding into the booth across from where she had been sitting, registering the hurt in her expression as she followed suit, returning to her seat. Neither said a word, her eyes were once again on the beverage in front of her. He had chosen to stare out of the window. His hands resting on the table in front of him.

It was a few minutes before the silence got the better of him, and he turned to her only to find she was already looking his way, quietly observing him while subconsciously tracing pictures on the table with her fingers. Usually seeing her so anxious would be enough to make him pull her to him, enough to encourage him to soothe her, to calm her down, even when he was what she was anxious about. It was different, this time, no matter how loudly his heart was crying out for her, he wasn't ready for that. He was hurting too much to be the man she needed him to be.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was small, so quiet that he barely heard her, and her eyes left his.

"You said."

She looked up again, almost seeming surprised that he had responded. "It started when I went back to work, after we got back from Rome. I know they were all just teasing, but it made everything feel so real. I panicked, and then my boss told me about a new opportunity in Houston, it seemed like everything was telling me I was meant to run, that I was meant to go before..."

"Before what?"

"Before everything got even more real."

"Marriage wasn't real enough for you?"

"A different kind of real." She elaborated. "I loved how things were, and the idea of it changing..."

"It wasn't changing, Bec." He interrupted. "You changed it!"

"I know." She admitted. "But all I was being told was how difficult marriage was, and how much harder it gets when... I didn't want us to be one of those couples that always fights."

"We hardly ever fight."

"I know." She repeated. "But they said that was weird, and that even if we didn't now we would eventually."

"Why would you even care what they think?" He queried. "These people aren't even your friends, they know nothing about you, or me, or our relationship, and you let them break it."

She fell silent, her eyes retreating to the table as she reached for the spoon in her mug, stirring it unnecessarily. "Is it really broken?"

He let out a sigh, picking up his own drink and taking a sip. "I don't know."

"What do you know?" She looked back up briefly. "What are you sure about?"

He allowed himself to momentarily get lost in her eyes before shaking himself free of those thoughts. "I'm sure that I can't go through it again. I can't put myself through it again. I love you, Beca, and I will never deny that, but it's not that easy. It's not that easy when I can't trust you. Just because you are the only person on this planet with the power to hurt me this much doesn't mean you should."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"What did you think would happen?!" He exclaimed. "You thought I'd be okay with it? That I'd just go about my life like a huge part of me wasn't missing? It killed me, I could barely function those first weeks. All you had to do was pick up the phone! Or even better, talk to me instead of running away, I thought you were past that."

"I thought I was too."

He sighed, his head dropping into his hands. "I don't even know where we go from here."

He almost jumped when he felt her hand brush his elbow before she rested it on his arm. "I know it's going to take time, but..." She hesitated, and it made him look up to meet her unsure eyes. "I want to come home, Jesse. I want to get to a place where I can come home, and we can be happy."

He pulled away. "I don't know what I want."

"Jesse."

"I can't trust you." He emphasised. "How can you expect me to be with you when I can't trust you?"

He stood, turning quickly as he saw her tears begin to fall. Ignored her pleas as he walked away.

 **-Shattered-**

He stared defiantly at the beer on the coffee table in front of him. All he'd wanted to do since he got home is drink. He had never been one to drink when things got tough, but things had never been this tough before. He hated himself for rejecting her, he hated himself even more for feeling that he had to reject her. Despite what he'd said to her, the idea of living without her was far worse than the fear of letting her back in.

He'd tried telling himself that she was asking for too much, but he knew when he really thought about it that she wasn't. She wasn't asking him to pick up where they left off, she wasn't suggesting that she move back home immediately. She was asking for a chance, and he'd done what he swore he would never do – he'd left her.

He wondered if this was how she had felt. All this regret, the confusion, the guilt. It had taken everything in him to not turn around, walk back into that diner and take her home with him, now he was wishing that he had done just that. This was Beca, he knew her better than he knew himself, and he couldn't help but worry that she'd give up, that this one instance of him pushing her away would be enough to drive her away forever.

She hadn't left him any messages since he had left. A part of him had been hoping that she would, anything to tell him that she understood, and that she'd wait. He'd known it wouldn't come so soon, she shut herself away with every knockback, he'd always been the optimistic one, even if she didn't give up this time, it would take her a while to come back from this, to build up her resolve and try again.

He slumped back in the chair, turning on the TV in an attempt to distract himself. Hoping that maybe a movie could do the trick. They hadn't in a while, but maybe now that he knew Beca was safe that would be different. He didn't have to worry about her so much while she was safe at Stacie's.

His eyes widened at the news bulletin that appeared at the bottom of the screen, at the images of the diner he had been at just that morning, now a burnt out shell, appearing above it. The numerous first responders combing over the scene. A blast, the headline said, and he felt himself sigh with relief. At least they had left before any of that had happened. At least _she_ hadn't been there.

He sat back, watching the coverage. His relief unable to take from the shock of the wreckage, of the destruction of a place that meant to much to him. It didn't seem real. He'd been sitting there just that morning, and now it was gone, for reasons that were still not clear.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen, spent hours fixated on it as the story progressed, coming to the realisation that this was the wake up call he needed. The past wasn't important, what could go wrong in the future wasn't important. Everything he had now could be gone tomorrow. He picked up his cell from beside him, dialling the familiar number of his wife, slightly irritated when the call went to voicemail. Of course she wouldn't be near her phone when he had his epiphany. "Bec, call me when you get this, okay? I love you."

He stood, glancing around the apartment. He shook his head as he took in the state of it, and with the news report still playing in the background, began to clean. They'd both messed up. She'd apologised, and as much as that wasn't enough, it was a start, a start that they could build on as soon as she was home, and he couldn't have her coming home to the mess the place was in, he'd never hear the end of it.

He was just wiping down the kitchen counter, finishing up the first of many rooms he had to get through, when his phone rang. He smiled, assuming it was his call being returned, and answered without checking.

"Hey."

"Jesse!"

"Stacie?" He questioned. "Is Beca okay?"

"She's not home yet. She's not with you?"

"No." He answered. "We left hours ago, she's not there?"

"No." The brunette seemed panicked. "What if she didn't leave?"

"I don't see why she would have stayed." He began to feel nausea creeping up on him, that hollow, terrifying feeling that something may have happened to her. "She's fine. I would have been told by now, right?"

He heard her let out a breath. "Yeah, yeah, probably. She had her ID, so..." She cut off when there was a knock on his door, having heard it through the phone. "Jesse, who's that?"

He didn't answer, stepping cautiously towards the door, his heart sinking when he saw the person standing on the other side of it. "No."

"Mr Swanson?"

He nodded, feeling his strength leaving his body as he grabbed onto the door frame for support.

The woman at the door held up a badge, but her words were a blur. Police. Wife. Explosion. It wasn't until the last word of her explanation for her presence that he really started hearing again.

Hospital.

She was alive.

* * *

 **Reminder: As of this point, the timelines merge (Chapter 1 is directly after this etc.). Hope it doesn't get too confusing.**


	7. Chapter 7

**For those of you reading Safe Haven, it's coming, the story and I have just been having creative differences, lol.**

 **Anddd the timelines have officially merged.**

* * *

 _Present Day_

It had taken her longer to wake up than the doctors had expected, but Jesse wasn't surprised, Beca never was a morning person, it makes sense that medically induced coma or not, she'd leave waking as long as possible. He'd just began to get anxious when she finally stirred, the steady tempo of her breathing changed. He'd been quick to call her doctor back in the room, noting the distress on her face, and had been assured it was normal, it was a good sign, she was just confused.

He'd stayed by her side as she was checked over, glad that he hadn't been forcibly dragged away from her, whispering reassurances to her before the doctor confirmed that everything was as expected, advising him to give her time, her body still had a lot of healing to do, and they didn't know what damage, if any, had been done to her cognitive functions.

She was watching him, and he'd never been so relieved by that simple action. Never been so overtaken just by the sight of her blinking. "You have no idea." He let out, taking a hold of her hand. "You have no idea."

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but immediately closed it again. She swallowed, another simple action that held so much importance to him now, before entwining her fingers with his. Her eyes were swimming with confusion, and for a moment he allowed himself to hope that she didn't remember what had happened, that she'd never remember the chaos. He'd give everything to be able to take that pain away from her.

"There was an accident." He explained, keeping his voice soft. "The doctors say you're doing really well." Her grip on his hand tightened, and he saw the questioning alarm in her eyes. "I'm okay." She slowly calmed. "I'm fine, just worried about you." He paused. "I love you. So much. I'm so sorry I didn't say it the other day, in the way you needed to hear it, I mean."

Her focus slipped away from him momentarily as her eyes darted around the room, fully taking in her surroundings before she refocused, once again attempting to speak to him. "I... I..."

He watched as she scowled in frustration, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her impatience. "Give yourself time." He advised.

She stared at him, settling herself back on the pillows as she watched him expectantly, and he shifted, moving as close to her as was possible in that moment and pressing a brief kiss to her temple. She leaned into him, closing her eyes at the feeling.

"I know it wasn't your fault." He started. "But please never do this again."

She gave a brief nod, glancing around the room again. Slowly lifting her hand to rest it on top of Jesse's. She gulped, trying to focus on him. "Jess?"

"Hey." He smiled. "Hi."

"What..?"

"There was an explosion at the diner." He explained. "What were you still doing there?"

"Diner?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "We'll have to find somewhere else to get those world class burgers you love so much."

He wasn't surprised by her confusion. She had a lot to come to terms with, and he knew it was going to take a while for either of them to really understand what happened. It could wait until she had recovered, at least.

"How long..?"

"A couple of days." A part of him was desperate to let her finish her questions just so that he could hear her voice that little bit longer, but he didn't want her straining herself. "You scared me. I love you, Bec, you do know that, right?"

She nodded, coughing briefly. "Water?"

He jumped up. "I'll go and check..."

"No." She reached for him. "Stay."

"I'll come right back." He assured her. "If you need water..."

"Stay."

"Bec..." He paused at the look she gave him, returning to his former position. "You're going to need water eventually."

She lay back, groaning as she shifted. "Later."

"You'll tell me?"

She nodded.

"This is typical, you know." He let out a laugh. "You've only just woken up and you're already bossing me around."

Another nod.

"What an earth do I do when you're not around?" He joked, his face almost instantly dropping as he took in her reaction.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." He decided. "We're together now, that's what matters, right?"

She smiled, nodding once again.

"God, I love you."

She laughed, the sound quickly subsiding as her eyes widened, her jaw clenched.

"Laughing hurts?"

Another brief nod.

"Okay, I shall try and contain my exceptional comedic skill."

 **-Shattered-**

"Beca!"

She looked up from her iPod at the sound of the voice, shooting Stacie a weak smile before glancing back at it.

"What, you're not talking to me?"

Beca looked back up. "Jesse's worried if I talk too much I'll over exert myself."

"Jesse isn't here." Stacie pointed out. "Where is he, anyway?"

"I made him go home. The nurse said he hadn't left in days."

"And he listened to you?"

"I told him I'd have him thrown out." Beca admitted. "Kind of wish I hadn't, now. I know it's only been a couple of days, but... it feels like forever."

"A couple of days?"

"Since we were last together, it was nice."

Stacie nodded. "Especially after what happened, right?"

"Yeah." She paused. "They said I could have died, so..."

"That's not what..." Stacie cut off, changing her course. "You didn't, that's the important thing."

"I feel like I've been hit by a bus, though." Beca elaborated. "So, what time did Jesse tell you he'd be back?"

"How did you know he called me?"

She nodded to the stack of magazines still in Stacie's arms. "You knew I was awake, Jesse asked the nurse to call my parents but not you, someone had to tell you. Nice try pretending you didn't know where he was, though."

Stacie laughed. "He didn't want you to be alone." She put the magazines down on one of the chairs next to the bed. "He knows you don't like hospitals, so he called me and asked if I'd drop by to keep you company."

Beca nodded. "So, what did I miss?"

"Not much." Stacie shrugged. "Amy kind of stalled with the wedding prep. She said it didn't feel right with you being in hospital. None of the others have really come down here because the ICU can be pretty intense and they didn't want to crowd Jesse, that nurse was right, you know, he literally did not leave. Pretty sure he yelled at one of the doctors at one point, too."

"Is he okay?" Beca questioned. "I was putting the weirdness down to sleep deprivation but he's been, I don't know, it's kind of like he's over compensating."

"Considering the circumstances." Her friend pointed out. "He's been worried, and he's been missing you for so long, you may need to give him this one."

"A couple of days isn't exactly long."

Stacie's brow furrowed, but she tried her best to mask her confusion. Beca was probably still foggy, she probably believed the past few months had all happened in her head. "He's just been worried."

"I guess." Beca nodded. "I probably shouldn't be surprised that he's like this, it's just... I hate that he hasn't been taking care of himself."

"He probably just wants to focus on you first." Stacie decided. "Let him, not as if you couldn't do with the help."

Beca nodded. "I'm so used to looking after myself."

"Maybe that was part of the problem." Stacie mused. "You need to learn how to let other people take care of you."

"What problem?"

"Um..." Stacie watched Beca for a second. "You know, that's a heavy topic, maybe we should leave it for a bit."

"Why?"

"Because if Jesse gets back here and you're stressed out or upset, he may actually murder me."

"He'd never hurt anyone."

"He probably would where you're concerned."

"He wouldn't."

"Of course he would." Stacie insisted. "The guy would move mountains for you. Where can I get one?"

"You know you can't actually move mountains, right?"

"It's a figure of speech."

Beca smiled. "I know." She paused. "Did Jesse say when he'd be back? You never said."

"Why?" Stacie smirked. "Missing him?"

Beca bit her lip, giving a small nod. "Making him leave was the right thing to do but I really wish I hadn't done it."

Stacie laughed. "He said he'd be back by 9. You know he's not going to stay away too long."

"I know." She sighed. "I guess the girls won't stay away much longer, either."

"Probably not. I can put them off if you want me to, though."

Beca shook her head. "No, it's fine, they'll be over the top whenever I see them, may as well get it over with."

"Don't sound too enthusiastic."

"I love them, I do." Beca insisted. "This whole caught in an explosion thing is just going to make them even more intense."

"They're just worried about you."

"I know. I get it, I just wish they weren't."

"You can't stop people worrying, Beca. You know that."

 **-Shattered-**

Jesse had opted for sleeping in the chair at her bedside. He didn't really care how uncomfortable it was, it was the only option he had and it was better than nothing. He liked being within arms reach of her, liked that if she needed him she could always wake him up.

She was still sleeping a lot. The doctors had assured them that this was normal, had repeatedly confirmed that everything was looking good. Jesse couldn't help but be concerned, though, they still wouldn't even give him an estimate as to when he would be able to take her home, and he was getting sick of hearing that she needed to stay in the hospital. He knew he was asking for too much, way too soon, she hadn't even been awake for twenty four hours, of course they wouldn't be looking to release her anytime soon. She was still bedridden. She could move her toes but they had no idea whether or not she would be able to walk, and they didn't even want her to try yet. He just wanted her home, though. He wanted to take her home like he should have done before.

"You don't have to stay, you know?"

He looked up from the magazine in his hand as she spoke, her groggy voice cutting through the silence. "Yes I do."

"I'm just going to be sleeping. There's no point in us both being stuck here."

"I'm not stuck here." He pointed out, smiling gratefully as he counted every word she was saying. "I'm choosing not to leave."

"I'm just saying, you don't _have_ to stay."

"Where else do you think I'd rather be?" He frowned, questioning whether or not she was now going to bring up the separation she had forced on him. "If I wasn't here with you, where do you think I would go?"

She shrugged. "Home? One of us should get to sleep in our bed."

"I'm good here." He insisted. "Especially after what happened the last time I left you alone."

"I doubt the hospital is going to blow up."

He sighed. "We didn't think the diner was going to 'blow up' either."

She glanced down briefly before her eyes once again met his. "Did anyone die?"

"Honestly?" He let out, put off by how relieved he was by the subject change – he wasn't ready to address their fractured relationship just yet, even if the alternative was the fates of the other people unfortunate enough to be in the diner at the time. "I don't know. I haven't been keeping updated, I was too focused on you."

"Do you think anyone died?"

"Probably." He admitted. "I saw a little bit of it on the news before I found out you were here. It'd be a miracle if no one was killed."

"Jess?" She paused, making sure she had his attention. "Can you find out?"

"Why?"

"I want to know."

"You need to concentrate on getting better."

"I know, I just..." She cut off, searching for the right words to explain herself. "I just feel like I should know."

He nodded. "I'll find out."

"Thank you."

"Anything you want, okay?"

"Okay." There was a brief silence. "I really am sorry."

He froze, wondering whether or not he should attempt to dodge the comment. He didn't want to make her aware of his guilt over leaving her. She didn't need that right now. "Bec, it's okay."

"No, it's not." She decided. "I can't even imagine how it made you feel. If it had been you, I..."

"It was never going to be me, Bec. We both know that."

Her eyes narrowed, confusion interrupting her train of thought. "It could have been you." She insisted. "If you had been the one that decided to stay and I hadn't..."

"Oh." He caught on to what she was referring to. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You had no way of knowing what was going to happen."

"Still. I'm sorry for scaring you."

He gave a weak smile. "I know. I know you are. You don't need to be, though."

She nodded. "Just like you don't need to stay here all the time."

"You trying to get rid of me?"

She let out a laugh and was cut off by the pain again. "I told you not to make me laugh."

"Sorry."

"You are so not sorry." She shook her head in disbelief at the smile he was unable to shake from his features.

"I am." He began. "It's just so nice to hear you laugh. I never want to lose that again. Ever."

"You won't."

"I don't think I could go another day without it."

"You're going to have to wait until it stops hurting."

He laughed himself. "Okay, but after that, I want you laughing every day."

"You're a weirdo."

He smiled. "There's my Beca."

"I'm only yours when I call you a weirdo?"

"Always." He chuckled. "I was thinking. We weren't exactly making time for each other before... well..." He cut off before mentioning the day she walked out. "When you get out of here, that has to change, okay? And I don't mean late night dinners in front of the TV, I want to set aside some time where we really spend time with each other, really make an effort."

"Like a date night?"

"Yeah." He agreed. "I mean, we don't have to go out if we don't feel like it, but kind of like that."

"Sounds good."

"Great."

She smiled, glancing down at the magazine in his hand. "Reading anything good?"

"Not really." He laughed, showing her the article he had been reading. "Twelve songs to make your day."

"Anything good on the list?" She reached forward, satisfied when he handed the magazine to her. "These are all ridiculous songs."

"I think it's meant to be funny."

"They could have done so much better than this." She was almost scowling at the words on the page, and Jesse couldn't help but smile. "This is ridiculous."

"You should complain."

"I might." She stated, beginning to flip through the pages of the magazine, looking for nothing in particular. Jesse watched her, took in her reaction to whatever it was she was looking at on each page. His gaze was on her when her eyes filled with confusion, and she looked up at him, a slight hint of panic in her voice. "Jess? How can these pictures be from Halloween this year? It's June."

He froze once again, his mind running a mile a minute. Halloween had been a week prior. Stacie had tried to convince him to attend a party being thrown by their friends. He hadn't gone, unwilling to see her so soon after she had returned to town. Avoiding it had been pointless. She hadn't attended either. They were well into November now. She'd lost months, and he had no idea how to tell her, or even how to tell her doctors without freaking her out.

That was when it hit him.

She'd walked out on him in early July, two months after they had got married. If in her mind it was still June, she didn't remember leaving him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the long absence. I moved house late last year, so things were pretty crazy and I didn't have the time to write that I had hoped I would. I'm trying to get back into things now. For those of you waiting for a Safe Haven update, I'm hoping that won't be too long.**

* * *

"Are you excited about moving day?"

Beca sighed, dropping her ipod down next to her and cuddling into her husband. "I know why you are." She didn't attempt to shrug, and Jesse knew it was because her body would not cooperate with that particular move. "But I'm only being moved out of the ICU and..." She paused, and he pressed a kiss to her crown as an act of encouragement. "I just want to go home."

He gave a weak smile, kissing her again, but staying silent. If he was honest, he wasn't looking forward to Beca being out of the ICU as much as he had thought he would be. He knew it was coming, she was stable, she'd been responding to physiotherapy, her scans had all remained clear, it had been a matter of time. Knowing it was coming hadn't stopped that uncontrollable sense of dread that had overcome him when they had been told, though. She was safe in the ICU. Safer than she had been outside of it, and he knew that once she was out of it it would become so much harder to keep his parents away from her. That Stacie would run out of excuses for their friends as to why coming to see her wasn't such a great idea.

He hadn't told her. And he didn't want anyone else doing that for him.

He was putting it off and he knew it. At first he had decided to wait until the doctor had checked her over, until he had more information. Then it was wait until he was sure she was completely stable and the shock and hurt wouldn't be detrimental to her health. Then he'd decided to wait until she wasn't so tired. He'd even decided he should wait until her father was there, but wasn't really sure of his reasoning for that. Then he'd settled on it: He'd tell her when she was strong enough to be moved.

"It's a good thing." He eventually muttered, unsure whether or not it was more for himself than for her. "One step closer to home."

"I know." She sighed, raising her one good hand to twirl her hair around her finger. "But it's new nurses and different doctors and more public."

"But the same me." He smiled, kissing her yet again. "It'll be fine."

She gave a reluctant nod, falling silent for a brief moment before changing the subject. "Did we really do nothing for Halloween? Or did you do something weird that you're glad I don't remember? Did you buy us stupid couples costumes again?"

He'd been sticking to the truth when she asked. They _had_ done nothing for Halloween, they just hadn't been together doing nothing. The summer had been hot and she'd visited her dad. She'd been spending time with Stacie. His parents had called quite a bit. It was all true if he avoided going into detail. She had started to notice that he wasn't.

"We just weren't feeling it this year."

"That's not like you." She sounded sceptical, and he couldn't blame her. He would be too. "Are you okay? Is there something I should know?"

She was gazing up at him, so he shot her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. Things were just stressful. Life got busy."

He could see the doubt in her eyes, but she didn't push him on the subject. She would eventually, he knew her well enough to know that. He just had to figure out how to tell her before that happened. As much as that wasn't going to be an easy task, and he would much prefer her never being reminded of those months they'd spent apart, he knew it was better that she was told, at least that way if she recovered any of her missing memories she'd be more prepared for it.

He'd spoken to the doctors at length. Spent the time she was asleep researching. There was no way of knowing if she'd ever remember, and it would be best to avoid upsetting her while she was so unwell. The advice had been sparse, as far as he was concerned. Not only did he not know how or when to tell her, he also had no idea how much he should tell her, he didn't want to overwhelm her with information.

"Can you get me some water?"

He carefully shifted upon hearing her request, careful not to jostle her too much. She was still in a lot of pain, and as much as he loved holding her, he also kind of hated her insistence that he sit on the bed with her and not in the chair by her side. He understood that she wanted to be close, though. He wanted that too. "Sure."

He stepped out of the room, barely acknowledging anyone he passed on his way down the hall. He broke the rules with her water, he knew that, he was meant to half fill the jug that was by her bedside and bring her a cup, encouraging her to pour it herself, but despite the physiotherapist's request, he couldn't bear to see her in that much pain. With one arm broken and the other bruised, it was a difficult task for her.

It wasn't until he was on his way back that he realised that he recognised the woman standing at the nurses station, a solemn, resigned look on her face as she conversed with the nurse currently there. It was the same woman he'd met in the family room that day, the one whose husband was also in the ICU. He paused for a moment, taking in her appearance and assuming that whatever it was that had happened to her husband, it wasn't good. The sight made him grateful. Beca was okay. Others hadn't been that lucky.

She turned unexpectedly just as he began to move again, unable to even force a weak smile as she approached. "How's your wife doing?"

"Great. She's um, she's doing well." He felt guilty just uttering the words, and was hesitant to ask the question that he knew societal norms demanded that he ask. "Your husband?"

She looked down, silent for a moment, and a small selfish part of him was hoping she'd hurry up and answer so that he could get back to Beca. When she looked up again there were tears in her eyes. "They want to take him off of life support."

"I'm sorry." He was genuine, but he also couldn't deny the relief he felt that he was not in her position. He fell silent, knowing that she was probably aware he felt that way, it was human nature, after all, and knowing that there wasn't much else he could say anyway.

"I just keep hoping that something will change..." Her voice was small, and he still didn't quite know how to respond. "I wish there was something I could do."

He glanced anxiously into Beca's room, seeing her watching them curiously. His eyes didn't leave hers as he responded to the woman in front of him. "Being powerless, it hurts."

"Loss hurts."

"I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost her for good." His eyes were still on Beca, but they widened when he realised he had briefly allowed himself to forget who he was talking to. He turned back to her quickly. "I'm sorry, I..."

"It's okay." She let out a sigh. "She's lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky to have her." He looked down at the cup in his hand, nodding towards it in explanation. "I should get this to her."

She nodded and he stepped past, quickly making his way back to Beca's side and placing the cup on the table beside her. "Your water."

"Thanks." She gave him a soft smile. "Who's that?"

He shrugged, glancing back into the hallway to see that they were being observed. "Some woman I met when you were first admitted. Her husband is here, too."

"Is he okay?"

"You know," He frowned, wanting to continue putting off updating her on the extent of what happened. "I don't know, she didn't say."

"Why wouldn't she say?"

"She just asked about you." He explained, taking the opportunity to sit. "She was around when I called your dad to let him know what had happened. It wasn't a long conversation, I wanted to get back to you. She just stopped me to ask about you."

Beca frowned. "You didn't ask how her husband is?"

"I did." He confirmed. "They think he's ready to come off the machines, that's pretty much all she said." It wasn't technically a lie, it was just misleading wording. The truth would hurt her, and right now he wasn't willing to allow that. "If I see her again I'll ask again."

 **\- Shattered -**

They sat in silence. Beca was used to silence, but this was so awkward, so uncomfortable, that she couldn't help but think that she'd done something wrong. She couldn't recall ever being looked at in this way before, the pity being confused by the obvious anger. Anger she couldn't explain. She bit her lip, deciding to break the awkward silence.

"So, um..." She glanced over at her mother-in-law. "Your birthday's coming up, right? Any plans?"

She was met with a steely look. "My birthday was in August."

"Oh." Beca let out a sigh. "Of course, I keep forgetting it's November."

"Convenie..."

"Mom." Jesse's warning caught both of their attention, and Beca watched him curiously as he scolded his mother with his expression. "Drop it."

"What am I missing?"

"Nothing." He sounded reassuring, but she could tell by the way he was fidgeting with his hands, the way his smile wasn't as big as it usually would be, that he was lying. "Everything's fine, right mom?"

Beca turned back to the older woman just in time to see the stony expression that been being directed at her before it was replaced by an almost unreadable frown. "Yes."

"Did I do something to..."

"No." Jesse interrupted her question, and she turned to him once again. "It's me. She's upset with me for not looking after myself."

"That was kind of my fault..."

"Bec, you didn't plan this, it wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault."

She heard the scoff her mother-in-law let out, but remained focused on her husband. "If I hadn't been there..."

"You didn't know."

"What if I did?"

"What?"

"I might have known. I can't remember."

"Bec, it was a gas leak." Jesse reminded her. "There's no reason that you would have known."

"I guess." She frowned. "Wouldn't there have been a smell though?"

"Not always." He shrugged. "Besides, you weren't really likely to notice, you were upset."

"I was upset?" She repeated. "Why was I upset?"

Jesse hesitated. Emotion. Another thing he'd avoided mentioning when she asked questions. It was easier to stick to the facts of what happened. Facts, no detail, no emotion. The more he gave away, the more she'd ask. "We'd had a fight. It was nothing huge, but I got angry and left, you were upset."

"You never get angry." She stated, her eyes narrowed. "And I would have to have done something really bad for you to leave me there."

He sighed. Typical, of course she'd find a way to blame herself. "You..."

He was cut off by his mother. "Maybe you should think about that."

"No." Jesse's response was instant. "She shouldn't, because she didn't do anything." He cut off, staring his mother down. "Didn't you have that thing this afternoon?"

His father stood up, shooting him a sympathetic smile. "Yes, yes we do." He glanced at his watch for effect. "And we actually should get going. Wouldn't want to be late."

Beca watched as her mother-in-law was ushered out of the room, her eyes fixed on the retreating couple until they were out of sight. "Jesse, what's going on?"

He smiled. "Nothing, everything's fine."

"Your mom hates me." She pointed out, shooting him a look of disbelief. "She didn't hate me before. What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything." He reassured her. He figured he could reason that lie away, if she didn't remember it, then did _she_ really do it? It was a part of herself that she didn't remember, after all. "She's just still getting over the shock, I guess."

"I guess..." Beca trailed off, watching his obvious discomfort. She let out a sigh. "Jess? Did the girls say what time they'd be here?"

"Just afternoon." He gave a weak smile, his hands falling still. "I'm sure they'll be here soon, and I'm sure I can find something to do to pass the time."

She bit her lip, remaining focused on him. "Can you stay?"

He seemed confused. "I thought you'd want to spend some time with them?"

"I do, it's just..." She cut off, trying to find the right way to express it. She didn't want to make it sound like she didn't want to see her friends, she did, it was just a daunting thought. "They can be a lot sometimes."

He nodded. "Sure. Sure I can stay."

He let out a sigh, feeling somewhat relieved. He knew Stacie had explained the situation to their friends, and he knew they had all agreed to keep quiet until he had figured out how to fill Beca in on the months she was missing, but he would much rather be there just in case something was accidentally let slip. The idea of her hurting and him not being there to comfort her was too much right now. He'd convinced himself to leave for her sake, knowing she needed time with her friends, but it was never something he'd wanted to do.

"Why'd the all decide to come together? Seems like it would be easier for them to each come when they can."

"Limited visiting hours, I guess." Jesse shrugged. "You know how it is. Only immediate family outside of visiting hours."

"Does that mean your mom can't hang around?"

Jesse let out a laugh. "Yes, yes that's exactly what it means." He placed his hand over hers, brushing his thumb over her palm. "I'm sorry she's being so off. I wish I could tell you that she means well, but..."

"I know I must have done something, Jess." Beca admitted, connecting their fingers and halting his movement. "It was bad, wasn't it? That's why she hates me."

"She doesn't hate you. She's just..." He paused, contemplating his wording. "She's just worried about how everything is affecting me, how everything is going to affect me. She thinks I'm sacrificing my career to be here taking care of you, and that it's damaging my future."

"But..." Beca cut off, a frown taking over her features. "Jess, you haven't lost your job because you're here, right?"

"No." He reassured her. "They understand, sometimes I work while you're asleep and send stuff in. They're being really supportive." He smiled. "I guess it helps that they like you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead on seeing her scepticism. "Everything's fine."

"So she's freaking out over nothing?"

"She's freaking out over nothing." Jesse agreed. "And you really need to stop worrying about it. We need to focus on getting you home."

"Is tomorrow good for you?" She suggested, watching as he rolled his eyes. "What? You brought it up."

"You know the doctors aren't going to go for that."

"I'll discharge myself."

"No you won't."

"I hate being here." Her evident pout made him laugh. "They don't let me do anything. All I get to do is sit here. The highlight of my day is when they come and take my blood. Well, on the days I don't get to go and have more brain scans."

"I'm not sure whether or not I should be offended by that."

"Sorry, Jess, but you're part of the problem." Beca reasoned. "You won't let me do anything either."

"Are you not hurt enough?"

"It wouldn't kill me to do a little work, Jess."

"Your focus needs to be recovering." He reminded her. "Health first, then..."

"BECA!" They both flinched at the squeal, but recognising the voice, Jesse turned towards the door, taking a small step back. "It has been months!"

"Months?" Beca queried, glancing up at her husband before turning back to her friends. "It hasn't been months?"

"It's been a little over a week, Chlo, don't be so dramatic." Stacie commented, walking in behind her. Beca didn't miss the pointed look she gave the redhead. "How are you feeling today?"

"Better, actually." Beca gave a weak smile. "Yesterday I felt like I had been hit by a bus, today I only feel like I was hit by a very large car."

"They didn't do anything about you looking like you were hit by a bus, though?"

Beca rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Amy."

"I'm a very honest person." Amy stated. "As well as being very humble, of course."

"Of course."

Jesse shook his head, a laugh escaping. "I don't think there has ever been anyone as humble as you."

Amy's eyes narrowed. "That's what I said." She glanced back to Beca. "You really must have trouble with getting him to listen."

 **-Shattered-**

It was an ache. That was the best way he could think to describe it. An ache that had started when she'd woken up. A dull pain that sharpened every time he looked at her, every time he remembered. He had tried to convince himself it was overwhelming relief blurred with the crippling anxiety, but it had only worsened with time, despite the improvements in her condition.

As he'd watched her happily interacting with her friends, blissfully unaware of the rift she had caused within the wider group, he'd only become more aware of it, of the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling of their life being so unsettled. Usually he'd talk to her, address the situation. This time was different, he was powerless.

When she'd first regained consciousness he'd assumed that they'd talk about the elephant in the room within days. It was a nerve-wrecking feeling, knowing that an impending conversation, however necessary, would hurt them both, but he knew they couldn't really move forward without having it. Her missing memories had changed that. He needed that conversation, no matter how much he feared it, he needed to address the situation before it escalated again, he needed to know what had gone so wrong that she'd ran, but she was in no position to provide him with those answers. Even if he did tell her what had happened during those long months, she couldn't tell him how she had been feeling on that day. She didn't even remember that day.

He couldn't forget, no matter how much he wanted to. He knew deep down he was terrified, that a part of him was convinced that if her mind was still in June, those problems she had been struggling with before she left would soon re-emerge, that one day, just like that day all those months before, she'd take off again, only this time she may not come back.

"What are you thinking about?"

She'd been asking the question a lot. She could always tell when something was on his mind. He was pretty sure that she also could tell that he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about letting her know what that was, this time. "Nothing."

"Dude, come on!" She never had been one to hide her disbelief. "Something is clearly wrong. You've been quiet all evening, and this isn't the first time in the past few days that you've had one of these quiet moments."

He sighed. "You love me, right?"

Her eyes immediately softened, a questioning glint catching his attention. "Why would you ask that? Of course I love you."

He nodded. "And we're okay?"

"I thought we were." She hesitated. "Is there any reason that we wouldn't be?"

He paused for a second, glancing down at his hands before looking up at her, her eyes searching his own. "No, no reason." He forced a smile. "So, how are you feeling?"

She frowned. "Annoyed. Why are you changing the subject? You didn't answer my question. What were you thinking about just then?"

He leaned forward, kissing her forehead, a gesture that led to an unimpressed scowl. She wasn't going to let him out of this one. "I just can't let it go." He tried, deciding that the best option he had was to give her an answer that would make sense, but was a safe topic in comparison to the real issue. "I don't ever want to come that close to losing you again."

"Jess..."

"I can't stop thinking about it." He shrugged. "I keep thinking, you know. What if I hadn't left you? What if we hadn't been fighting? What if..."

"You never did tell me what we were fighting about."

"Stupid stuff." He went quiet again, and he could tell by the look on her face that she knew that wasn't the truth. "Nothing big. Nothing that can't wait."

She didn't immediately protest, but he knew her silence wasn't confirmation that she wouldn't. Her gaze was almost piercing, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. Mere days ago he hadn't known whether or not he'd even see her eyes again. He wouldn't give it up for anything. She opened her mouth to speak, and he braced himself to tell her what he really wasn't ready to tell her, knowing that with his behaviour giving him away he couldn't keep it from her for long anyway. "What's..."

"Hey kiddo!" They both turned, Jesse somewhat relieved at the sight of his father-in-law. "How you doing?"


	9. Chapter 9

"Mr Swanson?"

Jesse glanced up at the voice, his gaze questioning the nurse that had called him. They never usually spoke to him when he passed, not now that things were looking up. He'd kind of liked not being babied by the hospital staff that had been constantly telling him that he needed to take care of himself.

The woman gave a smile that he assumed was meant to be reassuring, but came across as more nervous. "Your wife is having a bad day, it's nothing to worry about, it happens, it's just..."

"I've only been gone for a couple of hours." His statement was somewhat questioning, and he immediately began to feel his anxiety rising. "She was perfectly happy when I left." He hesitated briefly, trying not to sound to accusatory. "What happened?"

"It's nothing to worry about." The nurse repeated, her failed attempts at reassurance making Jesse realise just how young this woman was. "She's fine, her physio didn't go well this morning and it's only natural that she'd be frustrated."

"Should she be doing better than she is?"

"There's no real way of knowing how each individual will respond." The elaboration didn't really tell him anything at all, he'd heard those words so many times over the past few weeks that they had began to lose all meaning. "She needs to give her body time to heal, but she's very stubborn and is insisting on pushing herself, it's just a matter of helping her know when she's pushing herself too much."

He let out a sigh, so she'd stopped him to tell him things he already knew. Sure, Beca had been surprisingly accepting of her situation before this point, but he'd known that wasn't going to last, he knew her, he knew that eventually she'd try to force herself to get back to a level of fitness that she just wasn't ready for, that she'd try and force her battered body to work properly before it was prepared to. "What exactly happened?"

"The physio wanted to start working on strengthening her legs. She hasn't walked since before she was admitted, but she refused to start from the beginning, she fell when she was trying to force herself to stand up." A pause. "She's fine, just frustrated. She knows that there's no real reason that she shouldn't be able to walk. It was best that you didn't go in there blindsided."

He wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew it would come across as rude. It wouldn't have really mattered if he hadn't known before walking into the room, he'd known Beca long enough to know what she needed when she was feeling down, he knew her well enough to know when she needed comforting, when she needed tough love, when she just needed to be listened to, and he knew when she needed all three. He gave a brief nod of thanks before continuing to move forward, stopping at the door to the room she had occupied for the past weeks.

"Hey, you." Her face was turned away from him, but he could see she was awake, knew she had heard him. She didn't respond, her features set in a scowl that he could tell had been there for quite a while. "I'm hearing you've had a crappy morning."

He moved forward, walking around the bed so that she was facing him, relieved when she didn't make a move to turn away. "You want to talk about it?"

She watched him for a moment, her eyes searching his the way they usually did when she was looking for answers that no one could give her – she always turned to him when she was confused, she had done ever since they'd met. "I'm never going to walk again."

He sighed. "Yes you are."

"I tried." She stated. "I fell."

"Bec, you haven't walked in weeks." He reminded her. "You need to give yourself time."

She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again her expression had changed. "Where were you?"

"Home." He answered. It wasn't a lie, he had been at home, he'd asked Stacie to take Beca's things back there some days before, and he had began working on putting everything back in it's place for when she was strong enough to return. "You know I can stay for your physio appointments if you want me to?"

"So you can watch me fall on my ass?"

He sighed, reaching out and running his thumb over her cheek. "You'll get there, and I want to be able to support you. If you're sure you don't want me to be there then that's okay, but think about it."

"I want you there." She admitted. "But I also don't want you to see me like that. I know it's stupid, and I know that you know what's going on, but you'll be perfect and reassuring and I'll be a bitch, especially because I'm mad at you."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Why are you mad at me?"

"I don't know." She let out a frustrated groan, throwing her head back on the pillow. "I just have this feeling that I should be upset with you, or you should be upset with me or something and I don't know. You won't talk and apparently no one else will, my body doesn't work, the nurses are annoying and the doctors talk to me like I'm a child, so I'm mad at you." She hesitated, biting her lip. "I'm sorry I'm mad at you."

He let out a laugh, leaning down to gently kiss her. "Anger is good. Anyone would be angry in these circumstances. I'm angry that this happened to you, that I wasn't there. I would take on all of this if it meant you not having to deal with it."

"I don't want that." She argued, and he could sense her irritation at his response. "That would be worse."

"Not from where I'm sitting."

"At least you can deal with me being like this. I wouldn't be able to."

"Yes you would." He claimed. "And I wasn't exactly coping while you were in the coma."

She gave a brief nod. "Tell me why you don't want to tell me what happened the past few months."

"What?"

"I get that something happened." She reasoned. "Something must have or you wouldn't be avoiding talking about it. Tell me why and I might consider being less mad at you."

He sighed, taking a moment to think about how to respond. "I just don't want you dealing with that while you're dealing with all of this. I'll tell you everything, okay. I promise, just when you're stronger."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes, turning away from him briefly to glance out the door before turning back. "That'll be never, then."

"Bec." He sighed. "It'll be soon."

The scowl returned to her features, and she attempted to cross her arms over her body, flinching at the pain shooting through her injured arm. "When I'm no longer broken? I'll always be broken."

"You are not broken." He insisted, trying to resist the small smile tugging at his lips as she made the familiar claim. She'd been saying it for as long as he knew her. "Going through a lot does not make you broken, it makes you a fighter. And we'll get through this like we've got through everything else."

"You'll get sick of looking after me when I never walk again."

"Beca, you are going to walk again." He let out a sigh. "This is temporary. The doctor has said there's no brain damage. You can move your legs, you're just not steady on your feet after not standing for so long. It'll just take time."

"How much time?" Beca demanded, her anger and frustration clear. "I want to go home. You think they're going to let me do that when I can't walk?"

"They won't keep you longer than you need to be here."

"That's not an answer."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple. It was the only answer he had, and there was nothing he could do to make her feel better in this situation. It killed him.

 **-Shattered-**

"So." Stacie was grinning, and Jesse couldn't help but be suspicious by her somewhat chipper demeanour. "How are you?"

"I hate you."

Stacie didn't seem at all put off by Beca's comment, moving closer to her, the brightness in her expression never fading. "You love me. You told me so."

"No I didn't."

"I mean, you were asleep, but I distinctly heard you say 'I Love You'"

"I thought I was the one they were giving the pain meds?"

"Funny." She hesitated to let out a laugh. "Has Jesse not told you were talking in your sleep last night?"

Beca shot an accusing look at her husband, watching them from his position at the other side of the bed. "No, he didn't."

"It's not a big deal." He shrugged. "You've done it before." His gaze briefly moved back to their friend. "And she was talking to me, not you."

"I doubt I was talking to either of you." Beca concluded. "You're both the worst."

Stacie let out another laugh. "You won't be saying that when you hear what I did."

Beca's eyes narrowed, her curiosity obvious. "What did you do?"

"Convinced all the girls that it's okay for them to head back home." Stacie elaborated. "Chloe took some convincing, but she's like, two hours away, so I reasonably pointed out she could easily come back if she was needed."

"I still think it's stupid that she insists on hosting yearly Halloween parties two hours away from where she lives."

Stacie let out another laugh. "That's because she knows that if she didn't, someone in this room would see the distance as an excuse not to go." She shot her friend a pointed look. "Besides, she's glad she was here when everything happened, she said if she had been two hours away when she found out she would never have forgiven herself for being mad at you for not going to the party."

"We weren't feeling it." Beca repeated what Jesse had told her over a week before. "Which means I probably wasn't and he was just giving me what I wanted."

Jesse watched as Stacie nodded. He knew she wasn't entirely comfortable with withholding the truth, even if she did agree that it may not be the best thing to bring up right now. Neither of them liked having to hold information back from Beca, but they knew it wasn't about what they needed, and the focus of their concern just didn't need the stress.

"Chloe got over it fast when you got hurt." Stacie shrugged. "Don't be too surprised if it comes up again in the future, though. Right now she's annoyed at Ashley for not being out here to take over your treatment the second this happened." She hesitated when Beca let out a laugh, failing to flinch following the action for the first time since she had woken up. "We tried explaining that she's not qualified yet, but Chloe didn't really seem to care about that."

The room fell into silence, both Jesse and Stacie focused on Beca. She glanced between them, confused as to what had caused both of them to stop talking. She had grown used to Jesse generally just letting she and Stacie talk whenever her friend was there, but he usually always interrupted when things fell silent. "What?"

"You laughed." He stated, letting out a laugh of his own. "You laughed and it didn't hurt. You didn't flinch."

She turned to her friend, and then back to her husband again, taking a moment to think. "I laughed." She wasn't questioning their observation, just confirming the fact for herself. "I laughed." She let out another laugh, unable to resist smiling. "I don't even know when it stopped hurting."

"It has, that's the important thing."

It was as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. He'd known she was improving, but after her recent setback he knew she needed this, they both did. It was so small, but to him, and he knew to her as well, it was everything. The confirmation they both needed that she was moving forward on her journey back to health, that each day was a step closer to where she needed to be to go home, that despite how much it was frustrating her, her being in hospital was helping.

Beca laughed again, despite no obvious reason for it, and Jesse knew it was out of her need to prove to herself that she still could, but the sound made his smile brighter as he watched her. "I never want to stop hearing that."

"Jess." She was smirking, and he had a good idea of what was coming. "You're pretty easily impressed, you know that."

"It's the most impressive thing I've heard in a while." Jesse decided, her sudden decision to start making jokes surprising, but welcome. "I'll call your dad tonight, let him know."

"You're such a weirdo."

"He made me promise to keep him updated."

"It's not much of an update."

"It still is one."

"I'll let the girls know, too." Stacie put in. "They'll want to know."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just alert the media?"

"That's not actually a bad idea." Stacie countered. "Considering how you ended up in here, they're not exactly uninterested." She watched as Beca's face fell, a frown replacing the smile. "Like, not camping outside the hospital interested, but interested enough to have figured out that it's you that I've been visiting. It was a major incident, the public just want updates."

Beca looked back to Jesse. "What have they been told?"

He sighed, giving her a weak smile and reaching for her hand in an act of comfort. He knew she hated attention. "I've told the hospital not to tell them anything other than you're stable. It's none of their business."

She briefly closed her eyes, and he could tell she was relived. "Thanks."

"The interest will die down." He assured her. "The diner will be rebuilt, people will move on, it's only been a couple of weeks, things are still pretty fresh, people love a good tragedy when it doesn't involve them."

Beca nodded. "They better move on quickly."

"It probably won't be long now." Stacie shrugged. "You know, the next big thing will happen, people will get over it. Don't worry about it, it's not as if they can get to you in here."

"I guess not." Beca relented. "And hey, it's not as if I'm getting out of here any time this year, so they'll definitely be over it by then."

"It's not forever, Bec." Jesse repeated his promise once again. "And I'm sure you'll be home for Christmas."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then we'll have Christmas here."

"That'll be fun." Beca rolled her eyes, her frustration merging with her sarcasm. "Our first Christmas since we got married being in a hospital. Great."

He let out a sigh, knowing there wasn't much he could do to make her feel better. He just hated that she had gone from taking things well to frustration and anger so suddenly. It was always bound to happen, but he would have liked more time, at least until he had been given an indication of when she would be able to go home so that his promises had more meaning to them.

 **-Shattered** -

She cuddled into his side as best she could, and watching her do so left him in awe. Even when she was sleeping, she somehow knew that she had to be careful, her body was still wary of her injuries. He'd noticed some hours before that the bruises on her left arm were beginning to fade, no longer looking as angry and painful as they once had, and he hoped that her broken right arm was following.

He loved to watch her, partly because he now could, because she was with him, and she was safe, and she was getting better, but also because he loved her more than words could express, and seeing her so peaceful and carefree was such a rarity that he couldn't help but be taken in by the sight. He'd taken it for granted all those months ago, then his world had crumbled around him, and it had done so twice. He'd never do that again.

It was the sound of someone clearing their throat that broke his focus and forced him to look away, and he frowned at his mother as she took a step closer to him. He could tell she hadn't been expecting to walk into the scene she had, and he knew she most likely wouldn't have anything positive to say, and it was for that reason that he was glad that Beca was asleep. There was no way his mother would ever keep her distance, even though he had told her to multiple times, at least if she was asleep then she didn't have to deal with the passive aggressive comments.

"Mother." He turned away from her, glancing back down at Beca. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how you were." Jesse looked back up just in time to see her gaze move to his wife. "Both of you."

"We're fine." He stated. "Where's dad?"

He could tell she was uncomfortable, and a part of him felt guilty for making her feel that way, she was his mother, after all, but Beca was his priority. That was the way it had to be, and it was more importantly the way he wanted it to be, and his mother, as far as he was concerned, was a threat to his wife's happiness and well-being and until she could treat Beca the way she always had before her temporary disappearance, he didn't think having her around would be the best thing.

"He didn't come with me." She was moving towards him slowly, her gaze moving between the two of them. "You haven't been calling. We were worried."

"I've got a lot on my plate right now."

"I know." The words were followed by a resigned sigh. "I know, but that's not going to go away, Jesse. Not while you're ignoring the past few months."

"I'm not ignoring them." Jesse insisted, slowly edging his way off of the bed, careful not to wake his wife. "What the hell do you expect me to do? She doesn't remember any of it. She can't tell me how she was feeling or what she was thinking or what the trigger was because she doesn't know, and when she did know I wasn't willing to listen. I didn't want to hear it."

"You're allowed to be angry with her."

"I'm not angry with her." He took a step towards his mother, careful not to raise his voice. No matter how he was feeling, he'd never shout at his own mother, and even if he wasn't so opposed to that, he didn't want to wake Beca. "I never really was. Worried? Definitely. Hurt? Sure. But I wasn't angry. I thought I was, but that's because it hurt less if I convinced myself I was angry."

"No one would blame you..." She cut off, and Jesse knew it was because neither of them ever won when the two of them went head to head. "How is she?"

He sighed. "Frustrated. She hasn't recalled any of her memories, physio doesn't always go to plan. She wants to go home but the doctors want to keep her in a little longer. I guess because of the nature of the incident and the coma. The police still want to talk to her, I've told them she doesn't remember anything but that doesn't seem to matter to them."

"People died." His mother reminded him. "They just want to make sure they have the full story. Make sure that it actually was an accident."

He moved slightly, sitting down. "I know, but she doesn't remember that day, and of all the things she doesn't remember, what happened... that's the thing I hope she never remembers. There's a lot of things she's forgotten that would hurt her so much, but that day... I can't even imagine what she went through."

"Do you think she will remember?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I have to tell her some of it, I can't keep it from her. I just don't want to burden her with it all while she's in pain."

"I'm not saying this because I want her hurting like you were..." She cut off, glancing over at Beca, "And I never wanted this, but, don't keep it from her for too long. I know you want to protect her, but the longer you wait, the worse it will be. She needs to know how much she hurt you, even if she can't remember doing it."

"It's not about that." He shook his head, his mother's good intentions irritating him. "I can live without her knowing that, but even if there was no chance of her remembering, it's not about me, it's about her right to know, so I'd still have to tell her."

"I don't hate her, you know." She hesitated, and Jesse took the opportunity to look away. "I've never hated her, but I hate what she did to you. You were so lost, and so unhappy, and there wasn't anything I could do to help you. I saw how hurt you were, and seeing you let her back in like this, it's not easy for me."

"It's my life, mom." He reminded her, lifting Beca's hand and kissing it briefly. He wanted her to know he was still there, despite her still being asleep. "Mine and hers. Everything that happened, it happened to us, and only we get to decide how to move on from it, and we both did. That day at the diner, and those weeks before, that was her deciding. That was the choice she made. I made my choice too. That's why I was calling her before I heard she was hurt. We were going to figure it out, and we still are."

"And if she does it again?"

"She won't."

"You can't be sure of that, and I can't see you like that again. She broke you."

"And then she fixed me." He glanced back up at his mother, still irritated, but determined to get through to her. "I can handle this. I can take whatever she throws at me. She's worth it. She doesn't believe that, and that's a part of the problem, but she is so worth it."

"Seeing you like this..." She started, hesitating briefly. "It scares me. Will there ever be a point where she goes too far? A point where you'll walk away?"

He smiled. "No."

He wasn't lying. He honestly couldn't imagine it. He knew there was a lot worse she could do than leave him for a few months, but he really believed that no matter what she did he'd always be there to love her, to hold her, to promise her that everything would be okay. He'd always be there to remind her of his unwavering love for her (and she'd always roll her eyes and call him a nerd because of it), and a part of him would always question his mother's inability to understand this.

"So it goes back to what I said the other week." His mother sighed. "She can do whatever she wants. She can hurt you in whatever way she wants, and you'll just keep letting her back in." She paused, turning away from him and towards the window. "I can't just watch you do this to yourself. I can't just stand by and watch her destroy you."

"Then leave." He knew it was harsh, and with his family, he knew it would never stick for longer than a couple of weeks, but he had way too much to deal with without his parents interference, and Beca could definitely do without the stress of sitting in a room with his mother making snarky comments towards her. "She's my priority, that's the way it's going to stay, and if you can't handle that, you shouldn't be here right now."

"If that's what you want."

"It's what we need." He knew she was aware that she wasn't included in his use if 'we', he only ever used it when referring to himself and Beca nowadays, so he wasn't surprised as she slowly backed out of the room, leaving him to watch her until she had disappeared from sight before turning back to his wife, surprised to find her gazing at him, an unreadable expression on her face. He plastered on a fake smile. "How long have you been awake?"

She stared at him, silent for what seemed like forever before answering his question. "Long enough."


	10. Chapter 10

She'd been quiet for a couple of hours by the time her doctor came by to check on her, and Jesse was both terrified and slightly relieved. He'd been expecting questions, but they hadn't come, and as much as her silence on the subject concerned him, it also gave him more time to figure out the right way to tell her, not that he even believed that there was a right way – he'd had weeks, he'd have figured it out by now if there was a way.

He'd approached her immediately after realising what she had heard, and he'd been surprised by her responsiveness, having expected her to push him away and demand answers. Instead he'd held her, and she had buried her face into his shoulder without saying a word. When she had finally spoken, it had only been to apologise for something she didn't even remember.

He'd tried to pay attention to what the doctor was saying, but he was distracted by his thoughts, unable to really focus on anything but the conversation that had just come back to the forefront. She needed to know the truth, if only to stop her second guessing herself. It wasn't until the mention of the possibility of her going home that he really started listening, really started paying attention. He hadn't realised how close they were to it, but knowing they were now talking days as opposed to weeks or months, knowing that she'd be home with him for the holidays, it was enough to settle them both for a while.

A part of him, he had to admit, was furious with his mother for allowing the subject to come up when she was so close, even if they had both believed she was asleep. He'd been hoping that he'd be able to settle her in at home before telling her. Waiting until she was physically stronger and able to react in any way she may need to, until she was in her own home feeling safer, securer. He'd wanted her in more familiar surroundings, with the people that loved her around her to support her. He hadn't wanted her dealing with any of this while she was still in hospital, while she was still sick, while she still needed to be focused on herself and her health instead of him and how her actions had hurt him. How they'd hurt them both.

It was getting dark by the time he tried to bring it up, and he watched as she'd grimaced, followed by a yawn that he knew probably wasn't entirely fake, so he'd decided to let it go for the night. She obviously didn't want to talk about it, wasn't ready to know the details of what had happened during those months, not now that she knew her own actions were something that would upset her, and he had to respect that. He'd had weeks to think about how and when to tell her, the least he could do now was give her a choice as to when she heard it all.

It had never been about him. It had always been about her. He had so many questions about what she had done, and that day in the diner had barely even scratched the surface. He'd never really stopped wanting those answers, even though he knew she couldn't give them to him right now, and he wasn't going to risk telling her in an attempt to jog her memories so he could get them. There was no guarantee it would make her remember, and then she would have been hurting for no reason. It had to be in her own time, and now she had the confirmation that something had happened, that she had done something, she had expressed to him that she wasn't ready to know. He knew she'd tell him when she was.

"Jess?" Her voice cut through the silence in the darkened room as she raised her head from his shoulder. He responded by pressing a kiss to her forehead, letting her know he was listening. "Can you stay here with me tonight?"

His brow furrowed in confusion, though he knew she couldn't see it. "I stay here with you every night."

"No." She let out, placing her head back down. "I mean here. You always move to the chair once I fall asleep. I need you to stay here tonight."

He nodded, hoping she could feel the gesture. "Sure. Whatever you want."

She settled back onto his shoulder, but he could tell she was far from asleep. He knew her, he could always tell when her thoughts were controlling every inch of her, and he could tell she was questioning. Questioning what she may have done, questioning who else knew and whether or not she even wanted to know herself. He hated knowing that instead of making her feel better, telling her would likely make her feel worse.

"Bec?" He waited for a moment, not really expecting her to respond. "I love you."

"I love you."

It was barely audible, but he had heard it all the same, and knew when she relaxed slightly that she had needed the reassurance. That knowing she had done something to hurt him had, despite his earlier words, got her wondering if he'd leave now that she knew. He'd known for a long time that she'd never quite believed that he'd never leave her, but he was still determined to convince her. He would be as long as she needed him to be.

"You need to sleep."

She let out a sigh, her head remaining on his chest. "So do you."

"You first."

"Promise me if I fall asleep first you won't move."

He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of his own before squeezing her lightly, careful not to make any move that could aggravate her injuries. "I won't move."

"Promise."

Her childlike vulnerability was somewhat devastating, and was made worse by the knowledge that the death grip she had on his shirt would likely be, to an extent, hurting her. "I promise. I won't move. I'll stay right here."

 **-Shattered-**

"This is embarrassing."

Jesse let out a laugh, pushing the wheelchair towards the car, the crutches Beca adamantly refused to use tucked under his arm, the bag containing everything she had had with her in the hospital hanging from his wrist. "Bec, it's for your own good."

"I don't see how humiliating me is for my own good."

"Ah, but stopping you from falling and therefore preventing further injury is definitely for your own good."

"The car is literally right there. I could walk that."

"You know you're still not steady on your feet."

"It's right there!"

"I am aware of that."

"What was the point of bringing it right up to the door if you weren't going to let me walk to it?"

"Closer it is, less you're out in the cold."

"We're in California."

"It's December."

"We're in California."

"It's winter."

"I don't care."

"What if it snows?"

"We're in California."

"It snows in California."

"Not here it doesn't."

"It actually has before."

"Not this side of the millennium."

He sighed. "Bec, you can walk into the apartment, okay?"

"All the way in?" She queried. "Like all the way to our couch, in?"

"I'll carry you up the stairs."

"Dude, why?!" She complained. "People will see, what's wrong with the elevator?"

"It's broken and you haven't managed stairs yet."

"Can we not just move into a ground floor apartment?"

"I am pretty sure that moving would actually require a lot more effort than my carrying you."

"If you carry me, people will think I'm weak, and they'll feel sorry for me."

"No one that knows you would think that." He reminded her, opening the car door for her and watching as she gripped onto the side of the vehicle to pull herself up, eventually managing to get into the car. He pulled the wheelchair back, gesturing towards it, "I'm just going to take this back, I'll be 30 seconds at most, then we can go."

"Can I drive?"

"You're hilarious." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before shutting the car door, placing the crutches and her bag on the back seat, taking the wheelchair back as quickly as possible and returning to the car, sliding in next to her to see her eyes narrowed and her gaze fixed on him. "What?"

"Since when did you eat in the car?" She held up a pack of half-eaten marshmallows in her hand, making sure that he noticed them before continuing. "You never eat in the car. It's one of the things that makes me call you weirdo."

"I didn't really stop at home long enough to eat while you've been in hospital." He admitted, giving a shrug in an attempt to show her that it wasn't a big deal. "I was taking pretty much everything to go."

"So you haven't had a proper meal in over a month?" Her eyebrows raised, and he could hear the disapproval in her tone. "I don't need you to get sick, Jess, you promised me you were taking care of yourself."

"I was." He argued. "I am. I have been eating, just quickly."

"What am I gonna do with you?"

He started the car, pulling away. "You are going to be reasonable, and patient. And you're going to allow yourself to be looked after."

"That doesn't sound like me."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Not for that." She decided. "That's never going to happen."

Her grin caught his attention out of the corner of his eye as he drove, and he couldn't help but smile himself. She'd seemed more upbeat since being told when she could go home, but he hadn't seen that grin since before she'd left in the first place. She was genuinely happy. He was dreading taking that away from her when she started asking questions about what had happened between them, but he figured there wasn't any harm in enjoying it now. After everything she had been through she deserved a little happiness.

They fell into a comfortable silence as she stared intently out the window, changing the direction she was looking every couple of minutes to make the most of the familiar sights. It had, he realised, been a while since she had last seen any of this. He'd been seeing it almost every day since she had woken up from her coma, mainly due to her insistence that he go home to shower and rest, but as far as he knew it had been months for her, even if she didn't realise it had been so long.

It wasn't until they were almost home that she turned to him, a questioning look in her eyes. "Jess. What's happening to the diner?"

For a moment he was surprised. She had almost died there, and other people had died there, but he knew that despite everything they did have happy memories there. Of course she'd be curious. "I haven't heard anything. I guess nothing until the investigation is over."

"Do they know what happened?" She watched as his brow furrowed. "I mean, I know it was a gas leak, but how did it happen? Aren't these things checked? Don't they have to meet certain standards?"

"The place had just been refurbished. From what they've told me, they think a connection was left loose by the workmen, so gas started leaking out, and..."

"Boom..." She finished, turning away. "So people died because some other people didn't do their jobs properly." She leaned her forehead on the window, and he could see in her reflection that she had closed her eyes. "What happens now?"

"A lawyer called me." He admitted, his eyes remaining on the road. "I wanted to talk to you about it before I agreed to anything."

"Okay."

"She's representing everyone that was there," he hesitated before continuing, knowing what he was about to imply. She already knew, she had even just stated it, but that didn't make it easier, "and people who had a relative that was there."

She let out a sigh. "Representing the dead."

"Bec," He reached for her, knowing whatever action he took to comfort her could only be brief, he was still driving. "You're still here, that's all we need to think about right now."

She turned again, glancing down at her feet. "Yeah."

 **-Shattered-**

He wasn't sure how long he'd been watching her, sitting in the same spot she had been mere days before walking out on him, her eyes trained on the TV as they had also been on that occasion. Just like that time, he could tell that she wasn't really paying attention to what was happening on screen, probably just taking in bits and pieces of whatever show was playing.

Every now and again she'd flinch, something that he knew was a result of the injuries that were still plaguing her body, but she'd grown tired of him rushing to her side every time it occurred, and had demanded that he stop some hours ago – there wasn't anything he could do.

"Have you called your mom?"

Beca turned to him, blinking in bewilderment as if she momentarily had forgotten he was there, before pulling a face in response to his question. "Why? Not as if she cares."

Jesse sighed, moving closer and sitting by her on the couch, never breaking eye contact. Things had never exactly been plain sailing between Beca and her mother, their relationship had been relatively strained since her parents divorce, and as far as Jesse knew, the last real contact either of them had had with her had been on their wedding day, but despite this, Jesse had been surprised when his mother-in-law hadn't showed up at the hospital, and made very little attempt to contact him there, even after he'd left her the direct number to the nurse's station in response to one of the voicemails she had left him. "She cares."

Beca half-heartedly rolled her eyes, at his words. "Where is she, then? Because I haven't seen her."

"She's been calling, leaving messages."

"Too busy to leave her precious job, though. Right?" Beca scoffed. "Just like she was too busy to show up for my college graduation. Turns out even almost dying isn't enough to drag her away."

"Maybe she felt that you wouldn't want her here? That she'd upset you?"

"Your mom's mad at me and even she was there."

Jesse sighed, unsure how to respond to her rightful anger when he himself felt similarly. Her mother rarely made an effort, it had surprised them both when she had agreed to attend their wedding, and even then they had been stunned that she actually showed up. "I'm sure she'd love to hear from you."

"She's never been bothered before."

"Beca." He raised his eyebrows, almost laughing when her response was that all too familiar pout. "Just call her, okay? It doesn't even have to be today."

She let out a long dramatic sigh. "Fine. Maybe tomorrow, but it won't be a long conversation, and I'm not going to enjoy it."

"That's all I ask." He smiled, reaching out to push some hair behind her ear. "I'm going to go and get dinner, and then get the guest room ready, if you need anything call me, okay?"

She nodded, and he was moving to stand up before she reached out, stopping him in his tracks. "Getting the guest room ready for what?"

"Your dad." Jesse answered, his brow furrowing. "He's flying in tomorrow, didn't I tell you?"

"No." She glanced to her phone. "And I called him earlier, he didn't say anything. Why's he coming?"

"To help out for a bit, he's taking time off work."

"Why?"

"I can't take much more time off."

"Then go back to work, what does that have to do with my dad?"

He frowned, hating that he was going to have to say it, she still wasn't accepting her current limitations. "Beca, you still can't walk more than a few steps at a time, and you're still in quite a bit of pain, I can't leave you here alone all day. You wouldn't be able to get to the kitchen to eat, or get to the bathroom, or get out of the apartment if there was a fire. You need someone here with you right now."

She glanced down for a moment, and when she looked up she was mid eye-roll. "I'd be fine."

He shook his head, partly out of frustration. "No you wouldn't, and you know it."

"My dad, though." She complained. "Why not Stacie? Or even Amy?"

"Because he's your dad, and what happened to you has really shaken him." Jesse admitted. "He said he felt like he hadn't been spending enough time with you. He's taken a sabbatical from work to be here for you. He wants to be here more consistently than just the weekends he's been here since you woke up."

"And that means he has to stay with us?"

"It's for your own good."

"A lot of things seem to be for my own good, nowadays."

He almost laughed at her scowl, but knew that wouldn't be his best move if he wanted to convince her that this was something that needed to happen. "It's only until you're walking around more. You're still healing and you shouldn't be alone right now."

"Why can't you stay home?"

He sighed. "My bosses can only be so understanding, Bec. I've been off for over a month now, I don't want to start taking advantage. I'll work from home when I can."

She bit her lip, shifting herself to lay her head on his shoulder. "It'd be easier if I could go back to work too."

"I've actually spoken to your bosses about that."

She looked up, surprised by the statement. "What?"

"They've said you can take as much time as you need, but I know you, and I know you wouldn't be happy sitting around doing nothing, so they're going to give you assignments you can work on at home for a couple of hours a day, and only one at a time. They said to email them when you're ready and they'll let you know."

She smiled briefly, before biting her lip. "How would that work, though? With my dad in the guest room? That's where all my work stuff is."

"I'll make sure you have what you need in here." He insisted. "Just tell me what you need, when you need it, and I'll make sure it's here."

"Can you get my laptop now?" She queried. "I want to make sure everything is ready and updated."

He smiled, getting up from his spot and leaving the room, returning almost immediately with her laptop bag in his hand. "Figured you might say that."

"I've been out of the loop for so long, I probably have so much to catch up on."

He took the laptop out of it's case, placing it on the coffee table in front of her before powering it up, almost laughing at the impatience in her eyes during the seconds it took to load. "Watching it like that won't make it start up any faster."

"Oh my god you're hilarious." She rolled her eyes as she spoke. "I have no idea why all the nurses at the hospital found you so irritating."

"They did not find me irritating!" He claimed, feigning outrage at her words. "They loved me, I was their favourite person. After you, of course, no way I could beat that sunny disposition of yours."

"You're an idiot."

"Well now you're just charming me." He smiled, watching as she attempted to lean forward to grasp the laptop, only stopping when he moved it to her lap himself. "I'm going to go and get dinner, okay. Gotta make sure my wife eats, she gets cranky when she doesn't."

"Hey!" Beca complained almost immediately, glancing over the back of the couch as he moved. Her expression softened when their eyes met. "Kiss?"

"You going to miss me while I'm all the way in the kitchen?"

"Jess."

He fulfilled her request, leaning down to kiss her lightly before stepping back again, watching her for a moment as she turned back on the couch and use her one good arm to log in to her laptop, taking the moment to let himself believe that they were going to be fine. She turned back to him briefly, smiling before going back to her computer, and he took that as his cue to go and make a start on dinner.

She'd started humming almost as soon as he had stepped through the door, and as usual, he kept it open, listening to her as she worked. She probably wouldn't be at it long, after all, she didn't yet have any assigned tasks, and it was unlikely that she would be given any tonight. She'd grow tired of going through emails after a while, regardless of how many she had, once she reached that point, he knew he'd have to find a way to get her to rest and relax.

He was finishing up with prep when the humming stopped, and the sudden silence made him look up, glancing through the door at the back of her head. She was focused on whatever email was currently in front of her, a level of focus that always made him smile, when she turned to him, though, it wasn't the focus that caught his attention, it was her confusion, and when she asked the question that was on her mind, he'd been so surprised by it that she had repeated it for his benefit.

"When did we go to Houston?"


End file.
